As I sit here in the fresh spring air waiting for the concert to begin, I am reminded how much excitement I used to feel when preparing for my own concerts. The rush of know I would be going on stage soon. The fear of being in front of all those people. The butterflies in the pit of my stomach wanting me to vomit, but not doing it because I knew I could calm my nerves. It was like a high from a drug, only there was no drug involved except excitement. Then we were all on stage and setting up our stands and our music. With the hot lights beginning to scorch us as we sat there, waiting for the director to lift his baton. We were all at the ready, waiting.... And then the baton began to fly through the air and the individual parts came together in a wonderful melody, making my heart soar because I was part of this wonderful group making this beautiful music, that was both complex and relaxing. Following along and counting the measures, all while listening to the rest of the band and hoping I don't make a mistake. And if I do, making it seem like it actually belonged there. Then the cut. And waiting for the next piece to begin and going through all those emotions and feelings all over again. It was magical. I miss it and all the friends I enjoyed it with. Somehow I will never lose that part of school. Those memories, they will always be there every time I hear a concert, every time I pick up my instrument. I will always remember the feelings and then thrill of the concert and the music.
It's a little odd being he parent of a band student now. Knowing what I went through and wondering if she gets the same feelings I did. The difference....my parents used to talk with the other band parents, while I prefer to sit by the side and observe. I would much rather be with the band than the parents. That part will never die or change in me. If I had the chance to preform in the band, concert or marching, again I would jump at it.
