PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The music collection that my father owns is something of the most valuable things he has. When I was a child I remember I was fascinated by all the music he had. He loved to sit down on the computer and start playing his music while working on something. I recall that I loved to sit next to him just to listen to it. There was something about it that I loved. Was it the music itself? Was it the fact that I was with him? To be honest, I´m not completely sure, but probably both.

As I was growing up I start to like his music more and more, so my interest on it was growing too. I remember that, when I had enough age to understand, he loved to explain to me everything about why he had each of his albums. Sometimes he would take one of his favorites and he would explain to me why that album in particular was so special to him. Naturally, he had a lot that he loved, but there was one album that he preferred above all. That album was Reckless, by Bryan Adams. Of course, I asked him why that album in particular was so special to him. I remembered that, before answering, he got a smile on his face. He said that that album reminds him of his teenage years, and all the great moments he had on that time. There were days when he would just sit on a chair, take out the CD from the box and play it on a big, old music player he had.

My father loved to make family dinners. Of course, music was one of the things that make those moments memorable. Maybe it was a dinner with my grandparents, or my father´s siblings, maybe mom´s, or maybe all of them, there was always one thing that never changed: my father music was always accompanying those moments.

That music is also an important thing to me. Whenever I hear it, memories of my childhood come back to me, moments like when I was listening to it with him or even myself alone when I wanted to hear a new album. There were days in which I decided to just scrolled through each of the CDs, one after another, to see what new thing I could find. Sometimes my father would just stand next to me while I was doing that, always smiling. In a way, all that music that I knew thanks to him became a part of my own childhood too.