I just got back from taking my husband and daughter to see the marching band preview for my alma mater, Dover Area High School.
I don’t know how to describe it except that it felt like home.
I admit getting a little choked up when our director asked the alumni to stand, and everyone (including my family!) clapped for us. The second the drumline started the cadence, I started tapping along. And at the end, the fight song (which, 20 minutes earlier, I would have sworn to you I didn’t remember, despite hundreds of playings on the trusty alto sax) got my heart racing. It was amazing.
And I just couldn’t help but notice the connections. A couple about my age who I know from high school and church sat two seats down from us. A good friend who’s helping out by leading the band’s saxophone section this year waved at me from his perch atop the press box. We walked in with a couple who led the youth group at the church I went to as a child; their daughter plays clarinet in this year’s band, I found out. And my band director’s family, who I’ve also known for years, sat behind us, his young daughter “conducting” in time.
Remember that I said it felt like home? That’s home to me… knowing the folks around you, for better or worse, sharing your life with them, and having a part in their stories as well.
I couldn’t ask for more.