Teach Me
This poem hits me right in the feels... I wrote this when my son Jake was a little guy (18 months old, perhaps). He used to stand next to his dad and watch him play his guitar and reach his fat, little hand up to feel the vibration of the strings. I snapped a photo of this and was inspired to write a poem. Then my dear friend, Lisa, did a pencil drawing of the photo. I had them framed together as a Father's Day gift for his dad. When Jake was 12 years old, his dad passed away. His step-mom gave me the framed art to save for Jake. Fast forward several years... Jake was married, with a young son of his own and that art was hanging in their home. They had a house fire that destroyed everything... well, almost everything. This heirloom piece was salvageable, thanks to the work of a wonderful lady at a local framing shop. I happened to be visiting Jake when his second child, a daughter, was about the age he had been when I wrote this and I caught a picture of the moment that she did th...