I priced my late father’s Martin guitar at $300, but a teenage boy with only $20 asked if he could play it just once. When he began playing my dad’s favorite song, I realized the guitar’s greatest value wasn’t what someone would pay for it—it was the music it still had left to share.
The hardest part of settling my father’s estate wasn’t the paperwork. It was deciding what to do with the ordinary things. His old work boots. His fishing tackle. The coffee …
I priced my late father’s Martin guitar at $300, but a teenage boy with only $20 asked if he could play it just once. When he began playing my dad’s favorite song, I realized the guitar’s greatest value wasn’t what someone would pay for it—it was the music it still had left to share. Read More
