Lesson Learned

My guitar broke the other day. It was knocked over completely by accident, landed on the carpet and the neck (the long part behind the strings) just about snapped in half. I've had this guitar for a few years but it wasn't until the last two months that I started to find the time to seriously start learning to play. It has been the only thing I have been doing for me and only me and no one else. It has been challenging and fun and my mind is so happy to be doing something other than juggling laundry, cooking, and playing hide-and-seek. The guitar fell. It broke. My heart was crushed.

I left Greg to take care of the kids while I went in my room and cried. Part of me knew it was silly to be crying over a "thing" but any musician will tell you that their instrument is far more than just a "thing". It wasn't just the damage to the "thing", it was the loss of the instrument I use to feed my soul. I was sad.

The kids were a little concerned about me. They asked me over and over if I was sad. When I put Marcus to bed that night, he had some more questions and I was finally recovered enough that I could talk about it. Once again he asked me if I was sad that my guitar broke. I said that I was and he wanted to know why. "My guitar was my favorite toy. Now it is broken and I can't play with it anymore. Wouldn't you be sad if your favorite toy broke and you couldn't play with it anymore?" He's been a little bratty lately so I was not at all surprised that he smiled really big and told me that he would be happy. Time for me to teach that kid a little lesson.

"So if Bear," (Bear is his lovey), "got broken and you couldn't play with him again, you would be happy?" Marcus's cute face started to crumple and he shouted out that no, nothing can happen to Bear and if it did he would be very sad. I told him that that was how I felt about my guitar. I gave him a few reassuring words and told him to make sure he takes good care of Bear so he doesn't get broken.

Then Marcus tried to make me feel better. "Mommy, you have another guitar. You can play your other guitar."

"I am sure I will play my other guitar but it just isn't the same. You have another bear that is a really nice bear, but he just isn't the same as Bear, is he?"

I think he got it. Now I just have to try to figure out how to extend this lesson into taking care of all his toys, and not continuing to rip the wallpaper off the wall in his room, and stop destroying his artwork and throwing it in the trash.

There is a beacon of hope at the end of this story. Although my guitar will always have a scar, it does look like it will be able to be repaired at a reasonable cost.