Marching to the Beat

Only my closest and dearest friends would know that I have a very well-kept secret. You would have to know that I come from a very interesting family situation that influenced the way I see life and the way I relate to others. When I was five, my mother and father divorced, leaving my mother to pack us up and moving us to Bigger Better Burlington. Dealing with a nasty divorce, child custody/alimony issues, and unemployment, my mother had more problems than you can ever imagine. With that said, I grew up under my older sister's care and my younger brother's attention getting actions. Saying more might be a little too much, considering the possibility that he could be reading this. I guess you could say that I was the typical middle child who was trying to fit in and learn where her place was in the family and the world around. Rule following was my game and sticking out was my name! Instead of getting in to trouble, I was the overachiever who entered every contest, sang in the talent shows, danced, ran for SGA president, and even raced BMX bicycles! I know what you are thinking, and no, that is not the secret! The longing in my heart was to be noticed, loved, and nurtured. Things that I was obviously missing from my life at home. I found that place when I entered the band in my middle and high school years. So, here's my secret. . .I am a complete, committed, crazy, BAND NERD!!! The band was my family. It was like a secret association that only people of like minds entered. It did not matter what your background was, your band family looked out for you and took care of you if you were having a problem. You were in the loop! Once I left school and went to college, I tried to get involved with the band. It wasn't the same. It reminds me of that song "Strawberry Wine", where the she sings about the time that has drifted away and how you look back on that time with fondness. The weird thing is that I still wish that I could go back and march or play with my friends. . .just one more time. I have dreams about getting ready to march onto the field. . .the cadence call. . .hearing the announcer say "Welcome the Marching CHS Cavaliers!". . .Wearing my freshly polished white marching shoes. . .my crisp clean uniform with my yellow plume sticking correctly from my hat. . .rolling my feet 8 to 5. . .horns at the press box. . .the cheers. . .the sweat. . .the tears. . .then I wake up. I feel an emptiness inside. Here's the catch. . . if I could dream and dream big, then it would be to send out a message to all of the CHS band alumni. . .we could form a band and march at homecoming and parades. . .practice some throughout the year. . .have a few socials and visit one another. Yeah, I am a nerd when it comes to my band family. . .but of course, I have always marched to the beat of a different drummer most of my life.