The Sound of Music

I was humbled and honored to take photos this weekend at a gorgeous backyard wedding here in Winston.  The mother of a longtime friend from high school was married at their home and I was fortunate enough to be there behind the camera to capture the beautiful event for their family.

Not long after I arrived and ran around getting photos of centerpieces, the cake, the last touches being put everywhere, Michael, the minister of music from their church arrived to fit in a little tuning and practice before the ceremony.

I became enthralled with watching him warm up and hearing his beautiful violin.  Maybe it was the gorgeous green all around him in the backyard and the fact that I don't think anyone else had even noticed him yet.  But I was sucked right in.

I have been blessed with an incredible love for music.  This is what makes me a "Frye" (my grandmother's family) more than anything else.  (That and my hands....every woman in our family has the same hands, I feel like.)

You will be hard pressed to find anyone on that side of my family that cannot carry a tune, keep great rhythm, and play at least one musical instrument.  When my great uncle Harold died a few years ago, my mom was quick to point out that our family section at the church service sounded like a full blown choral ensemble, and that for most hymns a lot of the group didn't even need hymnals and could sing the respective 'parts' by ear.

In our family, learning to read music has always been just as important as learning your multiplication tables and how to tie your shoe.  Just a few weeks ago at church the music with the hymn in the hymnal was not at all the same tune as what was being sung.  After church Mom said something to me about how "that wasn't even the same tune that was printed!" and I quickly said "yes, but how many people in the congregation actually even knew that, do you think?"

Part of our Christmas tradition every year growing up was, truly, nearly a concert at my grandparents house.  All of the grandchildren would take turns playing a song (usually Nanny's favorite, 'O Little Town of Bethlehem') on any variety of instruments.  Then my mom and her sisters would always line up at the piano to play their holiday trio of Sleigh Ride.  I've heard this every Christmas of my life.

I so, SO appreciate that music has always been so important in my family.  I have vivid memories of my grandparents in the choir at church when I was very young, of going to see my cousins in concerts many, many times through the years, and of being very involved in music growing up myself.  I often feel like I can still hear my grandmother humming.  She did it ALL the time, and it was like some sort of background soundtrack for my childhood.

Music often brings me to tears.  A gorgeous arrangement of something can take the breath out of me.  Just this weekend at the backyard wedding, Michael stepped back into the aisle during the ceremony and played The Lord's Prayer, and I forgot for a moment that I needed to keep taking pictures because I got so wrapped up in how beautiful it was.

I've realized that I am just like my mother used to be when I was younger now at church.  I clench my teeth when people talk during the music during the worship service.  I have even, from time to time, thrown her 'look' in the general direction of those folks who seem to think that the music during the service is some sort of free-for-all to whisper down a pew.  These things MORTIFIED me growing up, and now here I am...

I'm so thankful that music has always been instilled in me.  I think I speak for every single Frye when I say that it's a blessing.  Music is healing and full of worship.  It can calm sometimes when nothing else can.  An appreciation of it is a true gift.  A gift for which I will always be grateful. (Which is exactly how my great-grandmother would have worded it.) :)