Oink?

A lot of times when I write, I'm pushed to do it because I'm just fed up with my own actions or especially inaction. I feel pretty calm right now so I'd like to just type out some thoughts from this week.

I've been thinking about the importance of family a lot this week and shared a few good conversations with people on the same page.

I was looking at a picture of me around age 4 or 5 sitting with my Paw Paw (Grandfather) in his recliner as he's reading me a story. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was there again, safely leaning on his chest and soaking up whatever intriguing story was unfolding from that book. (It was the 3 little pigs) Sometimes I would love to go back and have that tangible feeling of security again. I wish I could find some pajamas like that to fit me now too.

It's amazing to actually take into account just how much my family has done for me. Paw Paw played southern gospel music for 50 years and always pushed my brother and I onto a stage to sing a song with him and Mimi. Over the years he helped pay for our lessons and bought us gear and anything else we needed. He always knew we had a passion for this stuff and wanted us to pursue our dreams more than anything. I think some of his brightest times were when we had a family band and traveled around the region to play at little country churches. The band was a ridiculous outfit made up of around ten people including some close family friends. We packed all our gear into this tiny little trailer( which later served as the first Gills trailer) and drove separate cars to some of the most country fried places in Alabama and Florida. I remember how happy he was just to have us all on stage together. He would say that out of all the groups he played with , this was his favorite.

When we started making music (pre-Gills) he supported it just as much. I knew he didn't really get the music, but he knew we were stoked to be doing it so he would pick out things that sounded pretty and reach across a huge generational gap just to compliment our work. He would tell me about his Nashville experiences, how the musicians working on the album would just come in and lay down perfect unrehearsed tracks. I knew he wanted us to experience this stuff, and know the joy music brings you to play it, and then share it with others. He was never really rich but he did everything in his power and even reached beyond what he maybe should have sometimes to support us. He spent his last few years making sure we knew he believed in us. Even when he became totally dependent on my Mimi and nurses he made sure he expressed how much he wanted to see us succeed.

I think about him all the time now and talk to him occasionally. I give him updates and try to make promises to make good decisions. I never feel him looking down on me with disapproval. Even when I do stupid things, I see him getting stoked for me to move forward. I know he's watching me and keeping angels on their guard over my family. They can't slack around him or he'll get livid.

Him and my parents stir up some of my biggest motivation for living, and reaching goals. This is a huge world that can easily crush me into nothing or change me into someone I don't like, but I'm not afraid to take it on and come out on top because of the anchors I have holding me down and the steel cage I'm safely enclosed in thanks to my family.

These boys could really jam.