Music moves J.J., and all of the dudes around him!
Last summer, J.J. wrote "Music Moves Me". In that piece he wrote....
One of the things prison took from me was the ability to play music. Notice I didn’t say they took music from me. That’s the beauty of music. It stays in your heart and soul. Nobody can take that away from you. So, like tonight, from time to time, we escape through the music. Priceless.
Shawshank Redemption is one of J.J.'s favorite movies. Here is his favorite scene from Shawshank....a touching example of how music can touch somebody's soul. J.J. and all the dudes around him are truly grateful for music!
I still remember the day my baby brother was born. All of us were born at home, just Mom and Dad together, bringing little miracles into the world. For the first several births at home, they'd send the majority of the kids to a friend's house overnight and we would come home to meet the newest addition to our ever-expanding household.
Spud's birth was different. Mom was over 40 (and I hope she doesn't mind me mentioning that...it's kind of a miracle - without artificial anything...). I, Ester, was 8 years old when he was born. We were all at home, tucked away in our beds, and early one chilly September morning in Northern Michigan, I woke to my dad running from one end of the house to the other in his long-john thermal pajamas, waking us from the center of the house with joyful cries, "Wake up! You have a new baby brother! Hallelujah! Praise you, Jesus! You have a new baby brother! Come meet your baby brother!"
I raced out of bed and met the rest of my siblings in our parent's room ,where our glowing, exhausted mother proudly held a squirming, beet-red baby boy, the very first THAT-newly born baby I had ever seen in my 8 years of life. His is the only birth I remember of all my siblings, and I am so blessed that I do.
(1992)
Because the rest of us were a bit older than our new baby, we thought of him as OUR NEW BABY. He has 3 older sisters, who were 6, 8, and 10-years old at his birth, and he was a real live, laughing, crying, pooping human baby. We raced one-another into mom and dad's room when we heard the faintest cry as he woke in the morning, and passed him to one-another all day long, sharing as good kids do, and covering him with love.
(1994?)
Today our baby Spud turns 19 years old, and I called him (ANSWER YOUR PHONE!!!) and left a Happy Birthday message for him. We are singers in our family. I finished off with "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine... you make me happy when skies are gray...." because for the first forever and ever years of his life, that baby boy was my very best friend (and taught me that song when he was in Kindergarten). We went everywhere together, trips to the lake, building sand-castles and floating around with schools of minnows, hauling him along the Lakeside trails where we grew up, him in a wagon, trying to teach him to ride a bike years later, and eventually walking to and from the bus stop.
(1996 -Yeah, that's Miss Ester Jean - it's a long story. Don't hate.)
We don't get to talk as much anymore as we used to, but he's still my best little brother friend and I miss the shit out of him! I cried this morning, listening to a voice-mail from him. He's always gonna be my little baby brother.
(2008)
Will ya'll leave Happy Birthday messages for my baby brother today?
(Don't hate me for sharing this, Spud. It's one of my favorites.
If you call me and MAKE me, I'll take it down, but for now it stays up!)
