Songs Tell Stories:
Here’s a bit about mine . . . .
I grew up in a large middle class Catholic family affected by alcoholism and guided by love. For as long as I can remember, music was always at the ready: several differently sized and strung guitars, a piano, a uke, a drum kit, turntables, record albums and many singing voices.
Growing up, going to college, then being on my own, I was lucky to have the ability to play the guitar and sing through the many ups and downs of young adulthood. Periods of loneliness, moments of accomplishment and failure, striving for purpose: all of that was strung together by song, by singing with friends, alone, on stage, etc.
I was 29 when I met my husband. And though I’ve made my share of mistakes big and small, he’s always had my back. We’ve never lost the ability to sing together in the car to anything and everything! And he has always loved to hear me play. I'm so grateful and proud that our next anniversary will be our 25th. It has been a great gift to love and be loved through everything. And after all this time I think we might be getting it right.
I started writing poetry as a young child, at six or seven years old. It turned out to be a way that I got attention in that very big family. As a teenager, my peers paid attention as well. I’m pretty sure that’s why I am still doing it. It’s allowed me to share what matters and know that someone important to me will pause for a moment and see me.