Month: July 2015

Marching Band Season begins at 0900 7/27/15. Here’s something I wrote about one of my first experiences as a high school parent.

White plumes stood proudly on top of navy blue shakos. The golden autumn afternoon sun spotlighted navy blue uniforms with gold trimmed sleeves and a gold buckle on a white sash across the chest. All eyes were focused forward on the task at hand. They’d memorized every note and every dot in preparation for this moment. The band stood in perfect formation until the announcer asked “Drum majors is the band ready”. The drum majors answered the call with a sharp salute. “Are the judges ready” the announcer asked. The judges indicated they were ready with a wave. The announcer permitted the band to perform. “Perry Hall High School Marching Gators you may take the field in competition”.

The drum majors conducted the band as they marched and played in perfect harmony. Brass instruments were pointed high in the air indicating confidence and discipline. The color guard danced synchronously with the music letting their flags flow with the melody. This marching band performed what seemed to be a flawless field show.

There were three categories of marching bands in competition that day. The category depended on the size of the marching band. Each marching band performed their field show with the same level of intensity. While the judges were deliberating the host school performed their own phenomenal field show.

Waiting for the judges to deliberate seemed like an eternity but it forced me to reflect back upon the events of this marching band season. It was a first for our son. He was a freshman trombone and trying to adjust to high school. He carried a heavy load of honors and gifted and talented courses and was deeply involved in preparing for his upcoming Sacrament of Confirmation. My husband had just begun graduate school. I was in a job that I was severely burned out in and had just accepted a transfer to a new department. In the beginning we had difficulty adjusting to this new chapter of our lives but our family soon began to march in sync with the band.

We’d attended every high school football game and marching band event that our son had performed in that season. The band had taken first place in the two previous competitions and marched away with “Best Overall Effect”, “Best Visual”, “Best Color Guard”, “Best Percussion” and “Best Music”. This band was on fire!

The judges were finished deliberating. The drum majors from each band were called back onto the field to form a line and face the crowd. They all stood at attention and with good sportsmanship, applauded each band as their award was announced. Finally, our category of bands was to receive their awards.

With eight bands in the category, our son’s band was in the largest category. Eighth, seventh, sixth place bands were called. I sighed with relief and my body was starting to tingle. Our son’s band had not been called. The fifth, fourth, third place bands were called. My heart was beating uncontrollably now. Our son’s band still had not been called.

The second place band was called and it wasn’t our son’s band. My husband and I looked at each other with tear filled eyes. Time had stopped for us at that moment with the realization of what was about to happen.

Seconds later the news roared through the microphone, “With a score of 82.738, Best Music, Best Effect and Best Percussion, the Category 3A 2012 Maryland State Championship goes to The Perry Hall High School Marching Gators”. My husband, our daughter and I flew to our feet, embraced and cheered until our vocal cords hurt. The Perry Hall crowd in the stands erupted with foot stomping cheers and applause. From across the stadium we could hear the Marching Gators celebrating their victory in a similar fashion and we knew our son would be so excited and proud. This fine marching band had won what was rightfully theirs; what they’d worked so hard for. They were Maryland State Champions.

Tomorrow our son will begin his final season with the Perry Hall High School Marching Gators as a senior trombone and the low brass section leader. This state championship experience as a freshman inspired our son to take his music to higher levels and participate in multiple extra curricular music ensembles in addition to Marching Band. As a parent, I couldn’t be more proud.

Being a marching band and band parent is no different from other extra curricular activities. It’s about carting kids around after school, weekends full of activity, late night homework, a messy house, and eating on the run. It’s also about watching your child socialize, evolve and enjoy themselves in their chosen activity. Lucky for me just as soon as my son marches out with the class of 2016, my daughter will march in as a freshman trumpet with the class of 2020 and I get four more years of moments like that 2012 USBANDS Maryland State Championship.

When my firstborn was a young child with a little boy voice he used to exclaim, “Mom I’m growing up fast!”. I’m going to quote my grandmother here and say “Tell me about it”. Yesterday my husband and I stood outside and watched the driving instructor arrive at our house, honk his horn and orient our firstborn to the controls on the dashboard of the car he’d be taking his driving test on. A look of fear was written all over his
face as he backed the car out to depart for the MVA. I expressed my worry and my husband said “we’ve done all we can for him, it’s up to him now”, and he was right. We’d gone through “look both ways, come to a complete stop, watch your blind spot, check your mirrors, signal your intentions” over and over again. Now it was time for him to apply it. Driving is a major right of passage and these right of passages are becoming more intense. As a freshman we watched my father stand behind him as the Bishop anointed him with the Sacrament of Confirmation. As a sophomore we picked up the pieces when his first girlfriend broke his heart. As a junior we watched him cross the stage to receive his class ring and officially become an upper classman. Now he was about to embark on the scariest right of passage yet, driving a car. Independently mobile. Putting his life and the lives of others in his hands. For me the act of letting go and allowing my child to drive without us is unnerving, yet seeing him fail the driving test would be painful too. 
After he pulled away my husband mowed the lawn and I went to the gym. I said a prayer when I knew he’d be testing and had a vigorous work out. 

My husband was finishing the lawn when I returned home from the gym. The text came just as I’d gotten out of my car. “Guess who passed their driving test” was typed in all caps with exclamations. He did it! My husband and I cheered victoriously as if our favorite football team had won the game at the last second. 

I’ll always worry but I’m going to enjoy this right of passage of our son’s because he’s just so proud. In three more years I’ll have an instant replay when we experience this with our daughter. 

I saw something today that I have never seen. I wasn’t going to write about this but I feel I have to.

My daughter and I took our dog to the vet today. He’s had an ear infection recently and his ear is still red and itchy so we wanted to make sure his ear infection has not returned. They finished examining him fairly quickly and we were on our way. While we were standing at the check out desk, I observed the other customers in the waiting room. A mother and son were standing in line with pet supplies waiting to board their two dogs. They had that happy anticipating vacation look on their faces. There was a woman who was being dragged from the treatment area to the door by her big dog. She looked like she couldn’t wait to get out of there. There were two women sitting in chairs with their cat in a carrier. The cat was quiet and so were they. My daughter and I had our own things we were happy about as well. After I observed the room I noticed a husband and wife exiting a room. The husband was carrying a pink leash and the woman was crying. The woman nodded to the veterinary employee behind the desk who whispered “I am so sorry for your loss”. It occurred to me that while everyone in this waiting room was there for a specific reason these people where there to say good bye to their dog, a member of their family. My daughter and I just looked at each other and she squeezed our dog in her arms to embrace him. I felt so helpless. I thought these people would be gone when we walked out of the animal hospital to go home. Instead they were sitting in their pick up truck with red faces, foreheads touching and they were sobbing so hard their bodies shook. As a nurse, scenes like this are never easy but something we learn to deal with. As a dog owner, I am thankful ours is young and healthy but I truly dread this experience when it is our dog’s turn to cross the rainbow. Moral of the story, go home and give your pet a hug. Unfortunately they get sick and die just like humans. Enjoy every moment with them. They are family.

For the past few nights I’ve been watching back to back episodes on Netflix of the History Channel’s reality show The Mountain Man. I’m a little obsessed with it. I have opinions. Stay tuned. 

Never estimate the value of sitting alone on someone’s porch. Today marked the second time I have sat on this particular porch. Each time I visit, I observe something new. The many trees on this street create a leafy paradise of shade. The branches sway back and forth and provide a comforting breeze that lightly blows over my tired feet, which are now in flip-flops. There are smells too. Various scents of plants and flowers around the porch and in the distance the smell of someone’s supper cooking taunts my own empty stomach. I focus my attention to the homes within my view. Each house has a different size, shape and floor plan. I wish I could visit each one so I can imagine what life would be like in them. One house across the street catches my eye. It is the house with the bright red door. It seems odd that this house would have a bright red door but I want to continue looking at it because I like the color. I don’t have my glasses on but the siding appears to be rust colors on gray stone. On one side is a rectangular window and the other side has a bay window. There is a flag hanging proudly near the front door. On top of that house is an old stone chimney. Why the red door? When I finish staring at the red door, I glance to the house on the right. This house also intrigues me. From where I am sitting, I can only see the side of the house and parts of the screened in sun porch. There are no bright colors on the door but this has it’s own unique personality. It is a home of historical interest that has outlived the family that owned it. Although it sits empty for now, I know that it will soon be cared for, lived in and loved. The possibilities are endless. I look forward to the next time I visit this porch. Who knows what I’ll notice.

Everyone has their own hardships in life. I’ve had my own as well. Getting through nursing school was by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I was young, immature and I thought I knew everything when in reality I knew nothing. Luckily I had nursing instructors that were scary and hard on me but taught me to be a good nurse. A safe, effective, kind and caring nurse. I was also fortunate to have made a nice group of friends in the dorm that walked beside me through the hell of nursing school. We had our good times and bad but we all made it through that nursing program. After graduation we lost touch as people do but were able to reconnect on facebook years later.

I’m sorry to say that today I learned one of these girls passed away yesterday at the young age of 49. Hearing of people passing away at a young age only makes me even more thankful for my life as it is and the people in it. I was at our community swimming pool with my family when I learned of my friend’s passing. After a few minutes of communication with another nursing school classmate, I did the best thing I could do at moment. I got in the water and played catch with my kids and their friends. I knew that somewhere through that blue sky my friend was smiling down at me. Rest easy JHSON class of 1994 friend.

I don’t consider myself a skilled outdoorsman by any means. I’ve never been camping. I can’t build a fire. I’ve never shot a gun. I don’t believe in hunting innocent deer, rabbits and squirrels for game or even eating the fish we catch. I do appreciate being outside in the sunshine, rain or snow. With my family, I enjoy fishing, hiking and being on the water. When my son suggested hiking this morning I did not object. I was beginning to have a craving for it. I’m not sure if this particular craving for nature stemmed from recently watching multiple episodes of Mountain Man on The History Channel or if my subconscious mind was telling me it was time to get a nature fix.

We arrived at our favorite hiking location, checked the map and chose a trail. This time we chose a circular trail that we’d never been on before. On this trail, we’d pass our favorite part of the river and continue on further reaching a lost pool and wrapping around in a circle to return to our starting point. The sky was cloudy and gray when we started out. There was a slight drizzle of rain but the trees sheltered us from it. The sound of passing cars slowly faded away and was replaced by singing birds and rain on the trees. As we walked I deeply inhaled the smell of fallen leaves, the damp earth and the moisture in the air from the river and the rain. We dodged spider webs, walked over branches and through the mud. The clear river flowed in the direction of where were going, showing us the way, beckoning me to be part of it just as it does each time we visit. As we crossed a small portion of the river, instead of walking over rocks to avoid getting my feet wet, I walked through the water feeling it enter my hiking boots, soak my socks and refresh my feet. We proceeded on to our favorite part of the river where we like climbing over large rocks to observe the rough current. After a few minutes we went further into the woods in search of the lost pool. We kept going after we found it. As we continued on my husband realized this trail was longer than what the map indicated and we weren’t even close to the end. The rain was coming hard now and the trees could no longer shelter us. I found myself becoming frustrated because it felt like we were lost even though my husband said we were still on the trail. We turned around and started walking in the direction we came. I focused on walking quickly through muddy puddles and jumping over branches as if I was in an obstacle coarse. Finally we approached the portion of the woods that was familiar to me, that I knew would lead us out of there. I relaxed and enjoyed the trail and physical challenge of the hike. Once again I allowed the river to soak my feet as we crossed it and continued on. We finally reached the end and found our car. My muscles ached. I was soaked and looking forward to a shower and hot coffee but I felt rejuvenated and ready to face the outside world again.

You know it’s a full moon when your patient tells her surgeon she’d like to see her uterus in person after he removes it.