Writing a Song

I started playing ukulele 10 months ago. It was a creative outlet for me in a place where I felt trapped. Oftentimes, I would wait until I was alone in the house before searching some easy tabs on the internet and attempting to strum them out. I’ve always loved music, but I’ve never felt the need to write anything for myself. Copying was easier anyways. It was a way to learn how to recognize the differences between the notes and pick up the patterns when strumming.

My sister found out and she began playing with me. We only had one instrument (kindly named Freya) and we would pass her between us, practicing the same songs and giving each other tips. This may sound sweet, but it could become aggressive. Mackenzie wasn’t the best teacher, and she could be incredibly snappy and outright bitchy in her corrections. But it was nice to have someone to work with.

But with her help I improved. I got better with the strumming and the beats. I learned “Ride” by Twenty One Pilots and it quickly became our favorite song. One of us would play and the other would sing. This process was repeated with “Riptide” by Vance Joy, “Spirits” by The Strumbellas, and “We Don’t Believe What’s on TV” also by Twenty One Pilots. But “Ride” remained our favorite.

After Mackenzie moved, I kept playing. I would play those four, and I learned more. I turned to Panic! at the Disco and AWOLNATION, recording my own tabs and sending them to her for review. Even when she was mean, she still encouraged me to continue.

“You’ve improved so much!” “Switch Dm to F and that will be perfect.” “That one was real shit. I liked it better before.”

Three weeks ago my sister died. It took me a day before I could look at my ukulele. A week before I could pick it up. Another day to strum out a note. All while scribbling my mismatched thoughts into a little blue notebook to try to process what was happening in my life.

It was a few days ago that I began organizing my emotions. All those thoughts in that little blue notebook became poetry. When I added a tune they became lyrics. I was never good with emotions. I never really understood them, so I buried them. It took nearly three days to work through lyrics and make the tune fit them, and I’m still the only person to have heard them.

If she were still here, I would send them to her. And she’d tell me, “Calm down edge lord.” But she’s not here, so I’m gonna keep writing them. There was something she always told me when things were difficult. Ad Astra Per Aspera—Through Hardship to the Stars. This is my hardship, may she take me to the stars.

"Next Room Over" was the first song I wrote. It was jumbled thoughts about arriving home and knowing everyone was pretending things were okay. It was the pain of not being able to hear her name without seeing a tear rolling down my moms cheek. It’s feeling like she could burst through the door at any second, but knowing she never will.

Laughter in the next room over

None of us can crack a smile

Demon sitting on my shoulder

Please come back for a little while

"Witchy Woman" came next. Who she was when she was living and breathing and where she is now. Driving around Spokane in her Ford Explorer and collecting herbs off the side of the road. Hearing her singing along to the radio and letting her tell you all about how oils will heal your pains.

Witchy woman, witcher woman

Where did you go?

I never got the chance

To just hold you close

I don’t know how else to cope. I just hope that one day, when my music is heard, everyone will get to experience what it was like to know her. I just hope that I can keep her alive with something that she loved as much as I did. I’m not a professional, I’m just emotional. But sometimes emotions are what you need to power through. Ad astra per aspera—Take me to the stars.