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I played my dad's acoustic guitar (unknown make/model) for a couple months when I first started out, until I broke it.
He had used that guitar since the 60s when he used to play skiffle and light rock n roll (opened for several noteworthy bands back in the day) and the guitar was a big part of his past and how he fell in love with my mum. I was playing with it around the age of 15 before I stood it on my foot to close the door. It simply teetered over and crashed against the floor, cracking the neck at the headstock.
I have never been more broken-hearted in my life. The look on his face when I told him isn't one I'll forget in a hurry.