The Beauty of Music and Memories
I set off into the night, armed only with my used Martin guitar and eight months’ of weekly guitar lessons under my belt
The summer of 2017, I was newly divorced with four children in tow.
It felt like a train wreck in my soul. I could never keep up with everything and was so exhausted by the time the weekends came. The children went to their dad’s on weekends, and I would feel so guilty and sad that I wasn’t with them, yet so incredibly exhausted when they were home. Sometimes it felt to me like I had failed them. I was running on empty, and it felt like there was no end in sight.
After being in a difficult marriage and going through divorce, I didn’t really know who I was anymore. I had many lonely years of taking care of the kids basically alone due to work schedules and choices. I read a lot of books, took graduate courses online, and started working for an online school while I was pregnant with our youngest. I found joy in my children, teaching, and taking classes, but I had been very much alone in my marriage.
During those lonely years before divorce, I felt stuck in my life, and for a while, I didn’t know how to get out. Once I finally reached my breaking point and realized I couldn’t continue living that life and being worried about when the next infidelity would happen, I knew in my heart that the only way out was through the storm. Their father moved out the previous fall and my new life as a single mother began.
The kids and I went on vacation with my family in August of 2017 to Avon, North Carolina. My parents had honeymooned in Hatteras, and I had fond memories of vacationing on the Outer Banks as a child. Near Cape Hatteras was a beautiful little place called Avon; a quiet fishing town. We stayed in a large house on the beach with a private pool and hot tub. It is called “Mariner’s Light.” I was excited to be on vacation but felt like something was missing in my life now. My family was broken, and all I could do was just try to survive and do the best I could for the kids.
I would sit out by myself for hours after the kids went to bed just watching the waves come in. I wondered what my life might be like a year later or even five years later. It was too difficult to even imagine. In that moment, it felt like I was always running a marathon and each morning I would start over again at starting line. Each day I would run as hard and fast as I could, but I never got close to the finish line. I always felt like I could not possibly do everything that needed to be done each day.
My dad and I started taking guitar lessons together at the end of 2016. I really enjoyed playing guitar even though I had a feeling deep down that I would never be a very good musician. But something about it made me feel a sense of peace when I was playing. I even made a goal of playing one song at an open mic night in my hometown. No matter how much I practiced, I couldn’t shake the fear and nervousness of playing in front of people. So, when I brought my guitar on vacation, I had no intention of playing it live for an audience!
One day, my uncle was down at the Avon Pier and a guy he met told him that Turner’s High Moon Bar was having an open mic night. He remembered I had brought my guitar and told me about it later that day. I sat out on the deck that evening, contemplating going to the open mic night just to listen to other people play. Once the kids fell asleep, other adults could listen for the kids, and I could spend some time alone decompressing. I could sit and listen to the waves roll in, or I could go to the open mic night.
It seemed everyone was occupied with what they were doing. Some family members were drinking wine in the hot tub, some were already asleep, and others were talking on the deck. I decided to keep to myself and walk to Turner’s for open mic night. Armed with my used Martin guitar and with about eight months’ worth of weekly guitar lessons under my belt, I headed off into the night. I walked along the sidewalks carrying my guitar and case. I contemplated what I was doing, and it seemed a bit insane. I thought about maybe just setting my guitar inside the door quietly and pretending I didn’t bring it. My divorce counselor explained that when people are under duress, so much of the body’s energy is going towards processing all the emotions and that not much energy is left for rational thought. People often do impulsive things following divorce, and I imagine I was a prime example.
I walked in nervously and set my guitar down. I looked around and saw some local residents and a man up front playing guitar. I remembered from my hometown open mic night, that I would have to plug my guitar into an amp. This guy didn’t have any wires coming from his guitar; it was wireless. I was already impressed. At this point, after listening to the man play for a few minutes, I almost grabbed my guitar and left. I figured that this guy was so good, there was no way I could get up and play a song after him. I would make a fool of myself! However, before I could quietly slip away, the man came over and introduced himself. He told me his name was Chad and that he ran the open mic night. I told him I was a beginner and probably not prepared enough to play. He encouraged me to try. He said he would play with me and help me along.
I set my three-ring binder containing my favorite cover songs on a stand in front of me and picked out a song to play. He encouraged me to play a few different songs. Looking back, I honestly don’t remember the songs themselves. I think there was some Peter, Paul, Mary, and Fleetwood Mac, but I can’t be too sure. What I do remember was feeling more relaxed and happy than I had been in a long time. My plunking notes and off-rhythm timing were beautifully hidden between a symphony of Chad’s musical notes. Chad and his guitar brought my simple songs to life, weaving expertly in and out of my rudimentary playing and singing. I was having such a good time, I forgot to be nervous! Everyone at the bar was so nice and encouraging. It was a beautiful experience that reminded me that life wasn’t all bad, and I could now begin to make my life whatever I wanted it to be. It could be full of music, singing, and poignant moments.
I remember thinking that if I had not taken a chance and brought my guitar on vacation or to the bar, I never would have had this experience. Often we don’t know what someone else might be going through, but a small gesture, a smile, a nod, or accompanying someone on guitar, might mean so much more than we could ever realize at the time. At a low point in my life, I experienced something beautiful: music and a memory.
Chad is still playing music these days. Check out his new band, Sketoe’s Ghost on ReverbNation and Facebook!
