13 years. I have been with my band for 13 years. I have pushed through hardship and rough times with this band. I’ve grown up around the music and the instruments. I grew up marching with my sister, not playing on a playground with my friends.
But now; now my band is almost all gone. I’ve been with this band for 13 years and I’ll be a has-been after this year is over. I’ve never had to think of what I would be doing after band, because I never had a life without music.
I picked out my instrument at the age of 4, knowing I would follow my sister in her path. With each note I played, I strove to be as good, if not better, than my sister. Over these years, I have found that being the best isnt what you want. You want to make yourself happy, and if happy is being last chair, then at least you’re happy.
But growing up marching, the realization that I would never again step foot on Lowery Field hit the second we stepped off. I never took into consideration that maybe I should remember some of my past experiences. I never thought about never wearing my uniform again, or making sure my section had the perfect horn angles.
But the second my foot stepped away from the turf, I had tears rolling down my face. I knew that I would never get to march with my band ever again. I wouldn’t be their drum major anymore. I could no longer be their leader.
And it hit me like a rock that I should have appreciated everything just a little bit more. I should have taken the extra second to make sure the flash was perfect, or spent the extra few minutes of practice with my horn to my face. I never really thought it would be over for me, but I never really wanted to think about it.
Now, as a senior, I look back on everything I’ve done with this band. I’ve always been on the field with them. I’ve always been supportive. I’ve always been their biggest fan. I’ve taken them to state and almost broken the sweepstakes. With this band, I found my purpose in life, but without my family, I don’t know what I’ll do.