If you know my hubby and me at all, you may know that our likes and dislikes are sometimes poles apart. I love music - almost all types. But, if there's one that I might like the least, it's probably bluegrass (or head-bangin' rock, which I consider to be just as hokey). Anyway, of all the varieties of music out there, can you guess which one my honey is most into? You guessed it - bluegrass.
For the last several months, Don's youngest brother has been having a "jam fest" at their house every two weeks. We take in food for snacking, and the group of "jammers" bring their instruments and take seats all around the walls in the livingroom to do their thing. All ages come to enjoy the camaraderie and fun.
The music is engrafted in me. When I was a child, every time we would visit Grandma and Grandpa's house in the country, Sis and I would be awakened on Sunday morning by the sound of a violin (actually, Grandpa called it the fiddle), guitar or dobro. We kids would have spent the night on the hide-a-bed or on the floor, and Grandpa would be saying, "Hey, wake up and sing for me!" It was a routine. I never hear fiddle music but what I think of Grandpa and the legacy of music he left for his family. Through the years, my taste changed a bit. I became more fond of Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, Christ Church, Israel Houghton and New Breed, and Hillsong. But, deep inside my heart, when I hear that fiddle tuning up and the banjo start strumming those first few notes, something stirs, flutters and comes to life. I tell myself that I'm just "into" it because that's what Don loves, but I think it's more than that. The music is basic, simple and melodic. It speaks to me and beckons me to join the group. Pat my foot. Harmonize with the singers. Before I realize what has happened, I'm totally engrossed. An active member of the "jammers." The old hymns and toe-tappin' songs awaken a part of my soul that is dulled by lack of use. I come to life. I sing along. I laugh and become a part of this jolly band of minstrels. At the end of the song, we applaud ourselves and wait in anticipation for the next ripple of notes.