This morning I opened the door of the walk-in storage closet to keep a pair of shoes and upon closing the door on my way out, my eyes caught a glimpse of my 6-string Ibanez bass guitar in its travelling case. I paused momentarily before slowly shutting the door on my way out to ponder on how much I missed playing music.
In that split of a second moment, a flash of early memories of performing on stage with my bandmates zipped through my mind. The dim sepia lights onstage, the buzz of the amps and shriek of feedback, the smell of cigarettes and beer and sweat came back to me and made me long for it again.
“Daddy, hurry up…”
My daughter’s voice shuttered my split-second flashback and I was standing in front of the closet door while shutting it firmly in its place. At that moment, I focused on leaving the house in haste in order to send my daughter to school early.
It was only a few hours later when I started writing this post, I have recalled my longing for music again.
I feel incomplete.