July 2008 - Birthday Break

To a nine year old, some times even the simplest of memories mean the most. When my daughter was much littler, I used to feel like I had to run for the camera whenever she did something "cute." As she has gotten older, I realize that often the most meaningful thing to do is to jot down some of the things she says.

Granted, sometimes she lets loose with something that has either her, or sometimes both of us, rolling with laughter. Since there is just her and me living here at the musical ranch, we are often alone and free to act silly. I truly believe that this very thing is often enough to change the gloom of a bad day.

There have been days in her short nine years that have made me think, things that have made me cry, and things that I can't figure for the life of me, how something that special or complex could come from a little person's head. She is living proof that the simple word can have a profound effect in our lives.

One thing in particular that I was able to get jotted down before it evaporated, that if I live to be a hundred, will have the same effect on me whether I read it once or a hundred times more. We were walking, hand in hand somewhere, just talking and she says to me…

"Remember when we used to sit on the hill over beside the park and just talk and hold hands? And then we'd go get an ice cream…That was fun…"

Boy, do I remember when we did that and, yes it was the best of fun.

When she was younger and still one hundred percent the "Daddy's Girl," she would tell me a hundred times a day that she loved me. Then too, she'd cling to my leg as I dropped her off at pre-school, crying her little eyes out, thoroughly convinced that Daddy would never ever be coming back to get her… Those four little words she'd say, "Daddy I love you," meant and mean so much to me.

I have written for a long time. The written word has always been a very creative outlet for me. Though I could, and maybe should, write a book someday and lay out my life experiences so that others might learn from some of the mistakes that I have made along the path of life, I could never in a thousand pages begin to describe the simple uncomplicated effect and meaning of the arrival of my daughter into my life.

She is, in many ways, much like a good story. She writes it onto my heart each and every day and there is never a sentence of fluff or filler. Sometimes I wonder if it is not me, but her that is the true writer in this family. In each twenty-four hours that I am blessed to spend with her, I realize that I am getting another chapter in the greatest book that I have ever read, a book that I would renew over and over again and wait breathlessly for each page to turn.

Though I know that this column is supposed to be centered on the world of music, I ask your indulgence to celebrate the month of my daughter's tenth birthday. She is, after all, the true music of my life and without her it would be so quiet.

A world without music is a world without color, and because of your love, little girl, my whole world is colored with you.

Brad Moyers of Burnsville, is an eight-year radio broadcaster, a deeply devoted student of music of several genres, and writes as a hobby. He offers a glimpse into the broadcast music business, its history and happenings, from someone who makes a living doing what they love. Readers may contact him at brad.moyers@yahoo.com.