I didn't give a lot of thought to my fingers until recently. Last fall, after 40 years of making half-hearted attempts to play piano (all self-taught), it dawned on me that maybe I ought to consider another instrument. So I thought about 3 seconds before choosing guitar. It wasn't a far leap. Daddy had a guitar for a few months back in the early '90s, lent to him by one of his brothers in the hopes he'd too take up the instrument and join them in some of their impromptu jams at holidays. I found it and took it up, remembering some basic chords that I'd picked up hanging around Todd, Ernie, and Chris. But soon my uncle got the guitar back and my desire and interest waned -- after all, I had my keyboard.
But I do not have keyboard hands. I definitely do not have keyboard fingers unless you count a computer keyboard. I'm damn good at that. But just maybe a guitar and my fingers would cooperate. I started lessons, bought an electric guitar (and a three-quarter size acoustic) and was doing well until Mom got hospitalized. I suspended my lessons, with my teacher's understanding, and had planned to start again this month.
I've bumped it back until later .... One, I'm out of practice. I truly have not picked up my guitar since the day I took it to play for Mom in the hospital. The lovely callouses I'd built up? Sweet and soft now. 😫 Gotta build those back up!!
But more than just making music, my fingers help relieve my headaches (well, to a very small degree) .... type up stories, letters, reports, you name it ... make jewelry... and probably a million other things that I take for granted.
And we think of them so infrequently.....
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