Now I'm more at home again I've got far more time to make music.
Each day I'm practising bagpipe-melodies in my special flute.
I really enjoy it, and my family members don't complain.
Yesterday I was tidying my room and found a guitar pick.
It was a nice one, multi-colour, strong. Clearly for a steel guitar.
I wanted to put it in the box with the other ones, but instead I took one of my guitars and started to play.
At first my fingers didn't do what I wanted them to do, which made me feel old.
But gradually my playing improved and I forgot the time, trying to remember the melodies I loved so much.
I'm so grateful still being able to play.
A friend taught me long ago, the one who gave me the best guitar picks in the world, and who allowed me to play on his twelve string guitar.
It made me feel so rich and creative.
We lost contact for a while and when we went for a walk nine years later, he didn't even remember having a twelve string guitar.
It always strikes me when people forget things like that.
But he still remembered our evenings together.
He playing on the guitar and both of us singing.
There are days I wish he would be able to be here and enjoy time as much as we did then.
Now my daughter plays the guitar and I wish she would find such a great friend like he was.
She uses his guitar-picks.