With Friends
I’m in Marathon. Texas. For a songwriting festival. This is my fifth year. Five years since my wife passed away in the same month in 2020. I came in the first year because friends put the wind of kind words in my sails and recommended it. The drive of five hours felt like I was going to the ends of the earth, but my faith was repaid with the inestimable gifts of music and friendship. We listened to music, we played music, we talked.
In the end, the trip was less about the music on stage than it was about the music of that friendship. I was invited to hike. Three years later I stood atop Guadalupe Peak. I was invited to pick and sing. I’ve been doing it ever since, even from a stage. We are people with guitars and we play for our friends and ourselves. We are makers of music and we know makers of music. And the angels we know who sing on high and play like gods encourage us, and we encourage them. We are voices in the choir. They are the soloists.
I almost missed this year's trip. There was a conflict that resolved itself. In the end, I got to do two things. I played golf with my brother and played music with my friends. The missing of the wife continues, and I’m sure there will be other storms, but for now the breeze is fair and there’s music in the air. And it feels good to be in Marathon. With friends.