I do have one memory that is vivid. It is of my Grandpa Burch playing the mandolin. He died when I was 3 years old, so I can place the time and I know it is not supplemented by audio or video recordings. He was old (even then) and probably didn't playfully interact much with me and my older brother. Maybe that is why those musical moments have stayed with me. I remember him careful, even reverently, hold the mandolin and play it. I think the sound too was something that as a child was so unfamiliar. It is not usually strummed like a guitar. The strings are plucked quickly back and forth. This man who was so quiet would suddenly exude this physical and musical energy. I remember sitting on the living room floor mesmerized by the event of my grandfather playing the mandolin.
I think like many people of his generation, valuable possessions were few and far between. I'm sure that is one of the reasons why it was so well cared for. I like to also think that he held a high regard for the creative and intrinsic value that comes with making music.
So now my 3 year old child memories of sitting on the floor listening to my grandfather play will join with my present day memory of holding this cherished instrument. It is a strange and wonderful thing to hold a memory in your hand.