Here's to hoping for a new Schatzel Sunday tradition...

Last Sunday I woke up to the sweet sound of brad playing his guitar for the boys. It has been years...I mean it...YEARS since he strummed those strings. With the whole baby-making, MBA-getting life it was put on the back burner for awhile. And Sunday morning, he took that baby off the rack and made sweet, sweet music as his boys looked on, their faces filled with wonder and admiration.

Not sure if you know, but it's that sweet sound that made me fall for this man 10 years ago. Not that I wasn't "diggin" him already...but he ever so slyly used his guitar (and his voice) to make me fall hard. Let's paint the setting:
The woods of NE Pennsylvania, on the banks of the Delaware River, crowds of new friends around a campfire. I had recently told Brad that my daddy and I shared a song "Brown Eyed Girl" and that if a guy ever played it for me, I might just up and marry him. Sure enough, a few days later, Brad was providing the evening entertainment, singing and playing his guitar for us all around the campfire. Trying to play cool, I kept my distance, mixing and mingling with my two favorite sidekicks, Leslie and Devon. Then much to my surprise, I hear someone strum the intro to that very special song. I make my way back to the circle to see Brad singing that song, with his shy smile looking straight at me. Needless to say, my knees went weak and we were married 2 years later.

He continued to woo me with his music for the next 8 years by writing me songs and crooning out old favorites. Babies came, life got busy and he couldn't find the time.
Until now.
Waking up and hearing him play for my two boys made my heart melt all over again. The man that made me fall in love with him and his guitar...now singing to the boys that we love more than anything in the world. It somehow makes life seem more precious than we deserve.
Here's to more of those musical moments.