If You Try was my first completed song and it was the first of many I would write on the guitar.
Well, truthfully I had been making up songs on the piano for years, and maybe even making up words as I sang along, but it never happened like this before. I hadn't fully identified with the poet in my heart, until I was a Sophomore in high school and of course, romance, was the key that would open that heart shaped box.
It was a time of mixed emotions, moderate confusion and maybe a little of what my Grandma Jean used to call "boy crazy," and boy, was she right. I was crazy about boys. Ever since I was little, I loved boys, all of them, and we seemed to get a long just fine. Of course no one seemed to mind when I was a little tom-boy, running around the neighborhood, playing football, jumping bikes off fantastically devastating and wobbly ramps, to which I suffered many great falls and injuries, but nothing so insignificant ever stopped me! I was a tough little girl who prided herself on being a tom-boy, and being able to do anything any boy could do...and sometimes, I could do it better.
Of course, nature has a way of changing everything, just when you think you've got things pretty much figured out. Soon enough, I was called in to the house when the boys came around, instead of being able to play football, I was asked to do dishes and other such "women's work," as my Grandpa Elden used to say. All in all, the sudden shift in what I once could do, but now couldn't do, may have caused a bit of resentment, restlessness and inner rebellion, (but we'll get into that a bit later.)
Later, rather than sooner, I started to recognize the positive aspects change can bring. I think being an early bloomer caused me to hide my sudden ladylike figure longer than some of the other girls my age. I wore baggy jeans and t-shirts up until my Freshman year in high school. Eventually I caught on though, with the help of my mom, who helped me learn to walk like a lady and, with a bit of a struggle, dress like one too.
Which inadvertently, brings me back to my heart shaped box.
Now considered a young woman, wearing make-up and clothes I wouldn't be caught dead in today, I was surprised to find I'd somehow acquired the attention of a young man, who also recently changed over from the "baggy" look, to a more distinguished, cowboy look. His name was Josh and he slipped a note into my hand between classes and just as quickly, won me over with a poem he wrote, in red ink, just for me.
Of course, I instantly became his hand-holding girlfriend and wrote him a love poem in return.
I still remember the first few lines...
"When I first met you
There was something in your eyes
It made me want to touch you
It made me realize
That you were all alone
And I was by myself
Perhaps it was time
To love somebody else..."
Well...it was something like that.
Between women's work and talking on the phone with my boyfriend, (who I was forbidden to see, outside of school, and only allowed to talk to when my dad wasn't home,) I would lock myself in my room, writing pages and pages of nonsensical and romantic poetry. When my mom realized the artistic frenzy I was in, she searched through her old keepsakes and dug up a box of poetry she had obviously kept since the 70's. Each page was filled with beautiful, diabolical and strange poems, each printed in unique fonts, written sideways, upside down, in circles, waves, backwards and mirrored on brilliantly colored, flowery, (definitely 70's) hippy style paper. I wish I knew what had become of that box full of poetry, but I digress. It wasn't so much the poems that inspired me, but the fact that I was "into" something my mom was obviously once "into," as well and that made me happy.
Feeling artistically inclined, enhanced my ever strengthening desire to strum my dad's prized possession, his '76 acoustic Fender guitar. It was a gift from my mom, back when they were dating and it leaned against the wall everyday of my life and called to me. I was forbidden to touch it, unless I was dusting, and then I would "accidentally" pluck or brush the dust off the strings. I'll never forget the day my dad bounded into the room during one of these precious moments and instead of giving me slack, asked if I'd like to learn how to play it.
Whoa, was that a pivotal turning point in my life. It didn't matter that I had to cut off my beautiful nails, or the fact that my hands weren't quite strong enough to hold a G chord at first...my dad stuck with me and taught me a song with a real pretty picking pattern and a handful of chords, and that was more than enough to get me started.
With those few chords, that same picking pattern and a song in my heart, I wrote "If You Try."
All these years later, looking back, sometimes that's when you realize where a song truly came from and what it's really about.
This song was written for my parents who were doing their best to not only protect me from the ways of the world, but also show me their love, even if I made it hard at times.
Well, Mom and Dad, I hope you know every song I write, comes from the same place and begins and ends with your love, dedication, patience, blood, sweat and tears. I am the songwriter I am today, because of both of you and because it takes me back to that place of patience, trust and knowing everything is going to be OK. Thank you. I love you.
IF YOU TRY
By Brooke Mackintosh
(Available on iTunes under Brooklyn ~ Blue Skies Await)
Hey, can't you see
What you mean to me?
Hey, don't you know
You can be what you want to be
If you try
Don't you worry now
I know I love you
I won't worry now
I know you'll love me true
If you try
To be here
By my side
I won't cry
Please don't go
I don't know what I'd do
Without you
How will you know
What I'm feeling
About you?
If you try
To be here
By my side
I won't cry
The day will be so long
Without you I don't belong
If you try
To be here
By my side
I won't cry
I won't cry
If you try
Thank you for reading my blog.
I will be writing more about the songs I've written and hope you'll enjoy the journey, as I have.
Your friend,
Brooke Mackintosh\
www,reverbnation.com/brookemackintosh
