“Dad gave me his Gibson for my birthday” He said.
I was standing in Books-A-Million with my older brother Jeff. And I momentarily lost my breath…
The 1965 Gibson acoustic guitar that he mentioned was a Christmas present my mother gave my father that year…It moved over a dozen times in Michigan; from Highland Park, to Reed City, to Rose City, to 5 homes in Mio, two homes in Grayling, then back to Mio, on to Westland and recently Raeford North Carolina. It has lasted through two marriages, one divorce, three children, more parties than you could count, dozens of campfires, a few family reunions, multiple Mardi Gras’ and one canoe trip. It has also been played at one 4-H Christmas Party (it was background music though and never did THAT again), opened for Tom T. Hall at Graceland Ballroom (home of the infamous Purple Gang), and a dozens of other lesser known watering holes. Dad had heavy strings on it and the action is high, so it’s always been hard to play and now it’s unplayable. The Gibson has had a hard road, and it’s well worn life has warped it a bit—not unlike my father.
…I choked out an ‘oh?’
Jealousy is a funny thing. It hits you out of the blue sometimes. I certainly wasn’t expecting to feel jealous… It’s not like I don’t have a guitar of my own, I actually own 3 of them. One beat up electric Epiphone ‘knock off’ that I bought for my son, a sweet Fender Resonator guitar, and my favorite acoustic/electric on the planet, the Wechter Pathmaker that was a birthday gift from my wife in 1998. She bought it at RIT Music in Grand Rapids, Michigan and this amazingly beautiful guitar plays like a dream. When Shelli and I went guitar shopping back then, my brother’s advice was ‘buy something that makes you WANT to play it, or you never will’. When I walked into the acoustic room at RIT, the Wechter was hanging in the center of a short wall under a bright spot light, (I may have heard an organ playing ‘ta-daaa’)…it just jumped into my hands and whispered ‘take me home’.
The Bible says that jealousy is as “Unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, Like a mighty flame.”
It was the Gibson guitar that helped influence my love of acoustic music, and was the guitar that I learned my first song on (a simple 12 bar blues run). It also reminds me of all the times I played music with my father, which were the times that we communicate the best. Talk about a mighty flame!
I went to breakfast with my dad the next day and he seemed a bit anxious when he told me he gave the guitar to Jeff. Both of us knew it was the right choice and that the Gibson was in good hands. Jeff has some unique abilities with wood and strings, and will do a great job getting it playable again. Also, he’s the oldest son and he’s openly coveted it for years.
You know, it was the band at the church my wife and I used to attend in Michigan that kept me coming back, Sunday after Sunday, and I believe that God used my love for music to start my relationship with Jesus… So, a bit of prayer and a little time have helped me get over the initial pangs of jealousy. In fact, now that it’s in Tennessee (and will live about 1 mile away) I’ll have an opportunity to witness the new adventures of an old Gibson in the ‘good hands’ of my brother.
Love,
Jason
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May 4th, 2008 at 9:44 pm
Great story. Isn’t it interesting how after years of living hard and playing hard; getting warped and difficult to stay in tune, the hand of a master can return the shape and function to once again be able to create beauty not only for the player but for the listener. (whoa. my fingers ran out of breath on that sentence.) God can take our warped and out of kilter life and once again create beauty. Not only for us but for those around us. We all need a daily tuning, rubbed down to remove the grime of the day, and played to the enjoyment of our Lord.
May 5th, 2008 at 7:39 am
When traversing life’s path we often run across a bump here are a pot-hole there. Whenever we stop and took a hard look in the mirror we often find a weathered face often influenced by poor decisions in our life. If there weren’t enough distractions or temptations we are thrown curves like jealousy that create a whole new set of circumstances. However, as with ever other possibility the God we serve knows ahead of time how we are going to react to these situations and often times places loving people in our path to help alleviate the pain and anguish to focus on the benefit of being in the masters hands.
May 5th, 2008 at 8:33 am
…thanks for your “transparency” Jason. you’re right it’s funny how it hits you out of the blue sometimes. Good thing you know the Word of God and how to respond.
May 5th, 2008 at 7:12 pm
Jason,
I have a feeling this story will go down as a classic. You are a master storyteller, and I think God is onto that somehow!
And, maybe there’s a potential song that needs to be written about that old Gibson guitar?
Thanks for all you do for the Kingdom!
Margie
May 6th, 2008 at 7:04 am
Writing this story was a labor of love. Thanks for the sweet comments!
Jason
June 5th, 2008 at 2:40 pm
The hardest lesson I have learned…still learning is that those are just “things”. My Dad didn’t really have a lot of nice things. He pretty much gave the shirt off his back, but there are a few things that remind me of him, like his pocket knife he always kept in his pocket or handkerchief. When he was gone there was the awkwardness with my sister. Who gets what? He didn’t have a will; and now we have all this stuff, stuff that I don’t need but cannot throw it away. We went to clean up his apartment and I was boxing stuff up. I threw away an old rusty pair of scissors. I could hear him in my head saying, “Anna, don’t throw those scissors away, they were my favorite pair. His apartment was just how he’d left it before we took him to the hospital, I’m sure with no intent he’d never come back. We are all funny that way about certain things. It got me to thinking, what if I died? Would the things that I have cherished and took care of all of my life be taken care of? Have I told Jon to not throw away that broken jewelry box in the closet that I’ve had since I was born and that it means so much to me? And then I felt kinda silly because those are just things that remind me.
My Dad always smelled so handsome. He wore the cologne that came in the glass containers shaped like cars and cowboy boots…you know what I’m talking about; I think it’s stetson. I secretly put the bottle in my drawer at home. Every morning before I shower it’s like getting a big hug from Daddy all over again.
The most cherished “thing” that you have is the memories you have with your father and that guitar. Every time you hear the 12 bar blues, even when your father is dead and gone, a smile will come to your face…and that is untouchable.