I know it’s an overly dramatic title. Music is not really dead, but I feel a large part of Firstborn’s life is being put away.
Firstborn has been playing in an orchestra since just after his third grade year. That’s roughly 12 years. It has been the “medicine” which helped him work through emotions when he didn’t know quite how to recognize them or express them in any other way.
Firstborn’s playing is what got him into a magnet arts school where everyone was just a little quirky. It got him out of the line of fire from bullies who were tormenting him. His arts school and his experiences with Scouting allowed him to flourish, gain confidence and push himself in amazing ways. He even stood up to the school board and a room full of people to declare the need for more funding for the school when cuts were being considered. So many people reached out to me that day to tell me how much he touched them with his comments.
Firstborn has finally decided on a major (more on that in another post). Since he is switching from business, he has decided to really focus on his major to catch up, and to get a job to help put himself through school. (It’s important to him to keep pushing himself and to be able to claim ownership of his college education). He is looking at his schedule for the fall and has decided to give up music to make it all fit.
I understand his decision, but it grieves me at the same time. This has been such a huge part of his life. He plays beautifully. I will always cherish the arrangement he made of a favorite hymn of my mother-in-law. He and Lawboy played it at her funeral. If I can figure out how to post an audio only file, I will.
I feel so blessed his college streams their concerts and I was able to view it from far away. I hope he is able to find a way to play in some shape or form, but having made a similar decision for myself many, many years ago I know that will take more effort than he realizes.
Knowing he was preparing for his last concert, Firstborn took the following photo. I find it poignant and a bit bitter-sweet. And I think it says more than I can at this point. Letting go is hard.