Growing Up.....at 40

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m teaching myself to play the guitar. I have been working diligently for the past few weeks to get at least one song down so that I feel comfortable playing it in front of another human being. It’s nothing big or great, but it’s an accomplishment for me.

Anyway, that day came yesterday when my dad asked if I had learned to play.

“Yes, I have learned a song, Daddy. Would you like to hear it?”

“Why sure.”

So I get the guitar and I proceed to play Leaving on a Jet Plane by John Denver but made popular by The Mamas and the Papas. Now, I have been awake for all of 20 minutes and still haven’t had any coffee but I played the song (simple chording and strumming) all the way through without any mistakes except that I forgot the lyrics once. I was pretty proud of myself. I even finished with a little flourish on a G-chord. I looked at Dad expecting something like, “Well that’s not bad,” or maybe even a “That was pretty good. How long have you been working on that?” What did I get from him? I got:

“You really need to work on your voice, I could barely hear you.” And then he said, “You were just playing chords there, weren’t you.”

I could have smashed the guitar over his head.

Instead, I just laughed to myself.

Why did I title this entry “Growing Up”? I won’t go into all the psychological details, but believe me, caring what my father thinks of me has been something I’ve struggled with for all of my life.

Yesterday, it didn’t matter. I realized that his comments were a result of the tapes that play in his head and that what he says, most of the time, has absolutely nothing to do with me, my accomplishments or what I think of myself.

So, I’m growing up little by little and choosing who I am every day. Some days I might choose to be the 5-year old, but it’s better to be able to choose it instead of it choosing me.