Your air guitar, finally completed

My wife has photographed my kitchen solo for years: knees bent, eyes shut, hands working an instrument that is not there. This completes it. The guitar arrives — a proper worn sunburst thing, right where my hands always knew it was — and the morning light suddenly reads like stage light without changing a single cup on the counter. She framed it next to the original. Tweak: 'make it a saxophone' — I contain multitudes.