Days Gone By

Some songs are written to entertain. Others are written to remember.

“Days Gone By” began with memories of my little sister, Jojo.

When she was a little girl, privacy apparently wasn't something an older brother was entitled to. If I was in my room with a guitar, Jojo had a habit of busting through the door because, as far as she was concerned, if her brother was playing, she was supposed to be singing.

She wanted every microphone, even when the microphone was nothing more than a comb. I would play my guitar and she'd sing right along. It didn't matter whether the words were right. It didn't matter whether we were anywhere near the same key.

Those moments didn't seem important at the time. They were simply life. A brother playing guitar. A little sister wanting to be part of it. Another afternoon that came and went.

That's one of the strange things about getting older. The ordinary moments are often the ones that become extraordinary after enough years have passed.

The song grew beyond that bedroom into other memories: old photographs tucked away in drawers, summer water, boats cutting through the lake, early mornings when the water turned to glass, front porches, laughter, family and the people who helped make us who we are.

We don't always know we're living a memory while it's happening.

That's really what “Days Gone By” is about. Time keeps moving whether we're ready for it or not. Seasons change. People grow up. Families change. Some people leave us, and some simply become different versions of the people we remember.

But love has a funny way of preserving things.

A photograph can bring back a voice. A guitar can bring back a room. A song can bring back a little girl standing beside her brother, absolutely certain she belongs on lead vocals.

If I could borrow one more sunset from those years, I wouldn't need anything spectacular. No stage. No crowd. No headlines.

I'd just pick up that old guitar again.

And I'd let Jojo sing.

Because sometimes the greatest treasure you'll ever find isn't something valuable in a drawer.

It's an old photograph that reminds you of a moment you didn't know you were going to miss.