Dear Mom and Dad,

How did this happen? A football-basketball-baseball player fell in love with a volleyball-basketball-softball player and somehow managed to raise two girls insanely in love with music? We tried to be your little athletes. . .but somehow, music drew us in.

I can’t speak for Kayla, but I know how I feel when I am performing a beautiful piece must resemble how you two felt when competing with sports. I lose myself, somehow my skin turns into the sheet of music. I am covered with notes, and as they seep in through my pores, my whole body feels penetrated with beauty. My brow furrows with the escalating difficulty that each new bar provides. Those who know me well tell me I have your look of concentration, Mom. My right hand, poised inside the cloudy silver bell, sometimes slips down to my leg- laziness starting to take hold of me. But I soon remember what you both have taught me about always giving my one hundred percent, and my hand reluctantly returns to its rightful place. I imagine that is how you two must have felt at practice, when just going through the motions. Did you think of what your parents had instilled in you? I know they supported you, and in turn, you both have supported me. For this, I thank you. I thank you for seeing the value that I see in music, even if it seems difficult to you.

Of course, music doesn’t just take one form with me. Your favorite form of my music is Friday night under the lights. My band takes the field, and the crowd seems as if it is just a dull roar, yet at the same time it is the loudest sound I’ve ever heard. Through the sea of red and grey, I futilely attempt to find the two most important people to me. Although I can never seem to find you, the reassuring screams you release consecrate your presence. The blankets you bring are no match for the harsh winds you attempt to block out, yet you would never miss this moment for me. You wait patiently for your baby girl’s moment, and when it comes, my heart fills with pride knowing that you two are smiling down at me. Nights like these are the reason I love what I do, and I thank you for encouraging me to carry music with me onto the field.

I continue to carry you with me every day at precisely 12:30 p.m. Band. Every day, a new challenge presents itself. Even as I scan over a familiar page, there is still a new battle to be won. Ever-mounting pressure to fail not only my ensemble, but myself, piles on my shoulders. This pressure taunts me with a question- do I really belong in this group? Thirty-plus other eyes and ears feel as though they are all focused on my mistake, though I know each member is thinking the same thoughts as me.  However when I feel the most doubt, I remember your values that you have instilled in me. If my fingers fail to glide quickly over each passing note, I spend a little extra time on that section because you taught me to never give. You taught me to defeat every challenge that presents itself, then move onto the next- all the while keeping your head held high. You’ve passed on your determination and relentlessness to me, and although our passions may take on different shapes, I can feel you both pushing me to accomplish my battles in that muggy band room.

Another form of music takes place on the stage. The black mass that becomes illuminated under the bright, scrutinizing lights make their confidence felt in every inch of the auditorium. However, looks can be deceiving. Shuffling feet, rustling stands, and the murmuring crowd heighten my nerves. The audience desperately tries to squeeze in one final clap or comment before the conductor raises his arms to call for silence. Slightly short of breath, I scan the crowd for your faces. But the black void, extending just beyond the stage, hides you from me. When the beauty that is music pours out of my horn and into the still air, I can feel you. I feel you in every song, every bar, and every note. And when the song ends, and I struggle to calm my racing heart, a smile crosses my raw, sore lips. I know that I’ve made you and my ensemble proud, and that is all that truly matters.

So overall, I just want you to feel what I feel when I am absorbed in music. I want to attempt to describe how I feel into words. This might be a little out-of-the-box, but just try to feel it …?

Green. An overwhelming feeling of green is penetrating every pore on my body. It fills me from the toes up. I am weightless, straining to hold onto reality by a thread. My mind is lost in this vast, open space of green, and slowly this green materializes into a landscape. This feeling seizes my thoughts, and now I am really lost. Am I in my bedroom, all alone with the lights dimmed? Or am I in a soft green meadow, breathing in crisp mountain air? Then all at once, green transforms into a fiery red. A few minutes pass, and red slowly burns down to a rich purple. Then yellow, then blue. This torrent of colors continues until reality rears its ugly head. My escape must wait until another time.

Well, you may not feel colors now, but I hope one day you can understand this sensation. I’m writing to you both to show you how my passion- music- affects me. But more importantly, I am writing to express my gratitude for your understanding and support. I carry music with me, and I owe it all to you.

Love,

Your baby girl