It is said that you never know how
good you have it until you lose it. I can testify to this…today, today is the
first day of marching band for the upcoming season, and it brings back
memories, makes me remember things…
Last year, I joined marching band as
an experiment. I didn’t think I would like it very much, as I wasn’t into band
very much. The first week or so was just as I expected—horrid and hot, with
bossy seniors…then I met someone who became a good friend of mine who was in
the trombone section, and then suddenly marching band wasn’t so bad. I started
enjoying marching on the hot asphalt, even in the Southern summer sun. Still,
though, I thought it was just ehhh, because I didn’t let myself think
otherwise. The highlight of those days was probably the time I got to spend
with my trombone friend.
As the marching season began, I
drifted away from the other flutes. I wasn’t good with people, and it
showed—especially in my section, where everyone else seemed to enjoy hugs and
parties and calling each other sisters. I didn’t do that—I couldn’t. Instead, I
hung out with my friend from the trombone section. Practises were fun, and my
friendship grew.
At our first performance of the
year, I remember wearing my marching band uniform and being proud of it. I
remember kind of just sitting there, not knowing what to do. Though there was a
lot of issues with the marching at
that point, it was still pretty good-looking, because it was at least even. The
first football game, I hung back, still unsure about cheering. As the season
progressed and we went to more and more football games, I started getting a
thrill every time we marched. I started joining in with the admittedly crazy
dances and laughed doing them. For the first time, I was having fun outside of an academic life. One of
the seniors even took a liking to me—impressive, considering that I had been
nothing but a jerk to most of my section (my disdain was pretty plain). Still,
a few people took a liking to me within our section, although not as warmly as
they had with each other. But even so, they made those days in band so much
better…
By the end of the season, I had
totally fallen in love with marching band, if not with my flute section. I
realized that this was something I wanted to do for as long as possible.
A few months ago, this was torn from
me. I couldn’t do marching band this year, for a variety of reasons set forth
by my parents, none of them good ones. I thought I had gotten over that loss by
now. Today, a new kid in our school who became fast acquainted with me
announced his dedication to marching band and the fact that he was going this
afternoon. And immediately, I felt like this huge gaping hole had opened up
inside my heart again. I’d never felt that way for anything other than Science
Olympiad before. Passing our practice fields was painful, because I could see
the memories behind my eyes as I gazed down it. The magnolia tree, where my
trombone friend and I spent so many afternoons with each other. The back of the
field, where the flutes marched. The fifty yard line, where we grouped for warm
up. The field, which we had to run around.
It is horrifying that I miss it this
much. And I do. I do miss it. It was that one thing that allowed me to be a
normal kid for once, to not have to worry about anything…to have fun, to scream
and yell and let go once in a while. I would do almost anything to get that
back. And I am inexorably angry at those who took it away from me.
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