This Old Guitar Has Picked Me Up

I was 14 when I first picked up a guitar. It was Sr. Ines and the Saint Andrew’s Folk Group that inspired me-inspired us. My closest friend and I both decided to teach ourselves how to play. I borrowed an old Harmony guitar from my cousin Tony and sat on my bed with faded old mimeographed sheets of three chord songs from the Folk Group-“The Spirit is a Moving” – “Saint Andrew’s Parish Come Alive” –(that one happened to have four chords)- and I practiced until my fingers nearly bleed. Once in a while my father would yell in, “Is there a sick cow dying in there?” That is just a small sampling of his tough love. But I kept on going – self-taught- determined-inspired- and the guitar became one of the most life-giving and wonderful things in my life – it became part of my identity and who I was, and who I am, in the world.

I have played the guitar now for over 50 years -graduated a bit from the 3 chord wonders-but never took it as far as I should have or as far as many of the incredible musicians in our area have – I never endeavored to be that person- but that didn’t erase the joy that I felt and I feel when I play. There is something exhilarating about holding this wooden entity against your body and making music-music that most often no one will hear. Probably not unlike a fisherman and their fishing pole- a dancer and their shoes- a painter and their paintbrush. My mother used to say that she never saw me happier than when I was playing the guitar and singing – there is a joy that exudes from the core of your being when you are actively making music-playing-singing-dancing. It has never been about achievement or perfection but rather about love.

Not everyone has an interest in music or in playing an instrument-but for those who do- it is something that can really change your life-and perhaps most especially the life of your children. Playing the guitar eradicates boredom-there is always a place to park your time, your energy and your creativity. It helps you unearth and get in touch with your feelings and what you might be brooding over. It is a wonderful place to funnel teenage angst and ponder the meaning of life. The guitar helped me through all of those challenging years, helped me to meet new friends in college and helped me to express my feelings and anxieties. And it is never too late to begin-there are many wonderful teachers out there and the internet is filled with resources as well. I don’t think there is an age limit to learning something new and of course we all know how beneficial that is for our brains and our hearts.

Life is filled with many- “I wish I hads” and “I wish I hadn’ts” It’s all part of this lumpy bumpy road trip-but one thing I will never regret is the day I picked up that old Harmony guitar and started finding the words to tell my story. I often wonder what day will be the very last day that I pick up my guitar? I’m hoping it coincides with my last breath.

I have a feeling there might be many forgotten old guitars in closets and crawl spaces out there-maybe this is a good time to dust them off-change the strings and start singing your heart song!

“this old guitar
has picked me up -
whenever i’ve been blue -
and tells the stories of my heart
if i should play for you.”

— NANCY REMKUS - “THIS OLD GUITAR” FROM “ALL THE WAY HOME” ALBUM