i think i have a thing for musicians. my first boyfriend was a bass player. he had mad talent. whenever i hear the bass line in a song i see him on stage playing with his band and the thought makes me smile. i can see him clear as day standing in “the pit” at church with the rest of the band. they would get into a groove, each passing the musical baton to the other. the praise team and choir were almost background to their sound.
i can remember stopping by his place one afternoon and he was practicing in his bedroom, playing along with a hezekiah walker cd and he sounded just like the radio. i would go to his gigs and watch from the audience, proud to see him on stage in his element, doing his thing. later we would talk about the show and he would say, i don’t want you to just watch me play, i want you to hear me play. today i hear his sound, clear as a bell.
if we sang a hymn during praise and worship he knew every word to every verse. i, on the other hand, would substitute ooo’s and ahhh’s for the missing phrases. i’d be swaying to the beat and he would look over and say, you have no idea what they’re saying . i’d smile and shake my head. we’d stand there giggling like school children, almost forgetting where we were.
sometimes memories are all we have to hold on to. the mind gives us these little treasures so that we’ll know new experiences await us. if what or who you remember seeps into your mind because of a song on the radio, a fragrance at the Macy’s counter, or even a simple phrase like “babe,” embrace and celebrate it.