“All my kids play the drums,” my father said during the early days of discovery after we made our first adult contact. (My father was serving in the Naval Air Force overseas when I was born and before he returned home, my mother had broken up with him via a “Dear John” letter, and married somebody else.)
Anyway, back to the drums. This was quite an illuminating moment for me because drums had always been my “guilty secret.” I mean, what kind of nice girl loves the music to the “Stripper” as played on that Gillette commercial? lol! Me, that’s who. I could never understand this draw to the drums until that moment.
I’d discovered my family’s whereabouts through the Internet before social media existed. The first contact was with one of my father’s brothers. He was the one who said, “Welcome to the family. Now that you know you’re a Holmes, you’re going to want to pay attention to music.”
I’d always loved music, sang in the school choir, even soloed, had taken piano lessons, become quite bored with the scales, my step dad taught me a few chords on the guitar, and the school music teacher insisted I take some kind of instrument because I had such a great “ear.” I chose the violin – ick! If only I’d known the drums were my instrument – lol!
Anyway, all of this comes back to me as I make my way through some training classes on Logic Pro X’s newer features, paying close attention to the drums. I think about how impressed my dad is with his grandson – he’s a drummer, having majored in Jazz. I think about how I can never catch up with him. I also remind myself that I don’t have to – there’s no competition here.
It’s too late to try to win my father’s approval, his love. He either does or he doesn’t. This time is about me being true to my real self, pursuing my calling, doing what it is I’m supposed to do, have been equipped for, am being equipped for. Even at this stage of my life.