I got to thinking about the gifts I have received throughout the years, too numerous to mention each one, but here goes. First of all, what are gifts? Are they people, places or things? Are they moments in time, an experience so personal that words cannot explain or express?
There are the obvious gifts of love as in a song with lyrics like "I always dreamed the boy I love would come along. He'd be tall and rich, handsome and strong". I gotta smile thinking about that. Yes, that boy did come along. I married him. He still is tall, and rich in kindness, enough cash to cover the necessities with a little extra to share. He is still very handsome, with a touch of grey around the edges. Oh, and did I mention his strength, inner and outer? He can beat me at arm wrestling, and hug me on a needy day.
The gift of sight, so special, that when our eyes lock onto the beauty that surrounds us, we are left speechless and moved to tears. Just as when our eyes lock onto the not so beautiful, we are also moved to tears, sometimes to take action to help, to give, and to support.
Then there is the gift of hearing. We get to experience the joy of laughter we hear coming from the comedy of everyday life. A daily joke, or the story of a parrot who came from a fighting couple, who's new owners hear the parrot arguing with itself. The best sound, though, comes from the laughter of your children and grandchildren. Hearing such joy and laughter lifts your spirits so high...you don't even need a swig of brandy!
In the "thing" department of gifts brings to mind one that I received a long time ago for Christmas from my kids, who knew I was always a little nuts. A set of conga drums, shiny and black fiberglass...sometimes I hang ribbons from the top. When I got them, I couldn't play them very well, but over time I did get better. Well after all I did practice with the great bands, Carlos Santana, Tito Puente, Uncle Patato, and many more...THEY didn't know I was playing with them (to their records, just to set the story right), or maybe they would have hired me...ha ha ha. I did, though, experience the joy being in the zone just once, where time seemed to stand still. That happened one afternoon, while playing with my brother Dan, down in the basement. He was on the drum set, me on the Congas. We had a groove going that I think compared to playing with the great bands. We lasted about an hour, until our arms and hands gave out. A drum conversation so cool and mellow no words were spoken. We looked at each other at the final beat, ended our session, walked up the steps and both said "sweet"
Now my set of congas has been around my small world. They have been part of few drum circles, many a basement jam session and a special presentation of drum playing at my grandson's preschool. Now that is another special gift...to see my grandson, Jackson smile when his Granny shows up to teach the kids how to find their beat.
The drums bring out the best beat in everyone who has a go on them, from the youngest child to the oldest member in any family. And get this, EVERYONE has this gift, their own special beat along with their own special touch.
So, if you don't have a drum in the house, you can borrow mine, because the more hands laid on a drum the more alive it becomes. The beat of your heart is set free.....and yep....the beat goes on.
LKC
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