One of the most memorable Christmas’s of year’s gone by was the one that my parents some how really pulled it off and surprised with a new guitar. It was a fantasy of mine (like most kids my age had) to become a rock and roll star and I couldn’t possibly reach my goal if I didn’t have a decent guitar to play.
Normally we had our Christmas tree and all of the gift giving moments in the family room down in the basement. But for some reason this year my parents decided to try and do it differently, which meant having the Christmas in the living room, in the corner closest to the front window. People that went by the house could for the first time since we lived there see our beloved Christmas tree along with the other holiday decorations that we spent so much time on making and decorating each year with.
This year after, all the presents were opened and before we all gathered at the table for breakfast, my mother handed me an envelope that I didn’t expect her to give to me. I opened it up (most likely with the rolling of the eyes that kids that age are so known for doing) and was surprised to see my mother’s handwriting telling me to go downstairs to find a special surprise.
I remember practically diving and doing cartwheels all the way down the basement stairs and quickly sprinting into the family room where I found a rather large box wrapped up with my name written on it. I couldn’t get the paper off of there quickly enough to satisfy me. I basically remember a flurry of paper and cardboard while the rest of the family came on down to join me.
I never expected to really find an schecter diamond series bass guitar and one of the cool on stage stands in that box. My mother was prepared with a camera in hand and she managed to snap a couple of pictures of me while all of this was going on and they have become some of the funniest pictures taken back in the days of our youth.
I wish that I still had that guitar. We made beautiful music together for many years. I do believe that having this guitar kept me out of a lot of trouble that could have made my life even more complicated than it already was. But some how the darned thing got misplaced, lost or stolen because no one in the family remembers the last time they had actually seen me with it. I some times think that I will take some time and climb up into my parents attic and see if it some how was put up there. But the last time I was up there my sister was there as well and it some how turned into a search for treasures of her childhood, not my guitar. I got frustrated and it left a real bad taste in my mouth and I haven’t been up there since.