In A Galaxy of My Own

I’ve been telling myself that I was going to write a new and interesting post for the last 2 weeks. But when it comes to the interesting part, I’m stumped. I could write about how interesting work HASN’T been and all that jazz, but I’ll spare you the boring details.

Music. Music has been a part of my existence for as long as I can remember! It started with a piano and trips to Grandma’s house. I was amazed at the sounds that would come from it when you hit the keys. For awhile my cousin Becky tried to teach me Mary Had A Little Lamb, but I was only 5 and had the smallest attention span ever! Cousin Becky was my idol. She could play the piano and the flute! Wowza! So spending time with her was always a highlight of my childhood.

The first official thing I learned to play was the C Major scale. To anyone who is familiar with music that would be the most basic fundamental scale out there. I was so proud of myself when I first walked my fingers up the keyboard without making a mistake. “Mommy what’s next?!” I always asked. She said she would teach me something new next week and of course the next day the same question popped out.

When we moved to Kentucky my grandmother gave us that piano as a housewarming gift and Mom started looking for piano teachers. I started lessons when I was 8 and I even got to leave school early every Tuesday to take them. Oh yeah I was special. When I hit middle school I started playing the trumpet in Band. My twin sister and I were flower girls in my Aunt and Uncle’s wedding and they hired a trumpet player for the ceremony. I was enthralled from the moment the rehearsal started.

Shortly after my trumpet career, my piano lessons ended. I remember being so upset. My twin sister was taking them too and she never enjoyed it like I did. So she told my mother she wanted to quit so mom told our teacher we were both quitting. I remember a lot of yelling and a lot of crying that day.

My trumpet career only lasted 2 years. 2 great years I might add! I was the best trumpet player in 6th grade AND 7th grade. Before my 8th grade year started my band director wanted me to switch to the French horn. At first I thought that was the worst idea ever. I loved my trumpet and I loved always being at the top. (Who doesn’t?) But I gave it a shot and it turned out I liked it a lot better than my trumpet.

I played my French horn through the rest of middle school and all through high school. I had pretty much decided I was going to college for music when I was a sophomore. And I already had my university picked out. My parents bought me a brand new French horn when I graduated. The one I had been playing was on loan to me from the school. French horns are uber expensive and they didn’t expect my parents to pay for something they demanded I switch to. But I finally had a horn of my own. It sparkled. It shined. It made a wonderful sound. I was on cloud 9!

My time spent as a music student wasn’t all bad, but it wasn’t all good either. For one music majors have a lot more on their plate than an average college student. On top of the general education requirements we have to fulfill we have a ton of music requirements to fulfill as well. While some students my age were taking math, english, biology, history, and maybe a religions class… I was taking english, history, music theory (1out of 4), intro to music, private lesson, marching band rehearsal, symphonic band, French horn ensemble, piano class (1 of 4), recital attendence, brass class, and some other stuff I can’t even remember now! I would get up at 7 and have classes and rehearsals till at least 6 or 7. And then I would have to start on the mountains of homework I had AND not to mention the 3 hours of private practicing time I was required to do everyday. The only thing positive I can say about the whole experience is that I learned to manage my time AND the semester went by fairly fast.

So if I was doing wonderful with my music load, why don’t I have a degree in music by now? Well the answer is one of sadness and understanding. I was in a car accident the night before my junior year started. I wish it were as simple as a fender bender. A guy ran a red light and T-boned my little toyota corolla. I’ll spare the details, thats for another entry. But it ended my music career. I can play now no problem since its been almost 2 years since the accident. But I’ve been forced out of the music loop for so long, it would take me awhile to get back to where I was when I was practicing 3 hours a day. It’s sad since music was always a part of my life for a long time. But it’s ok because during this time I’ve learned that I have other interests that define me. A degree in music would be nice but it is not necessary. In fact, there is very little I can do with that degree and one thing I have always wanted is a degree that works for me. I don’t want to look back on my school years and regret the choices I made because I’m struggling to find a solid career so I can provide for my family.

Everyday I think about where I would be now if that accident hadn’t happened. What kind of music I would be playing and what level of difficulty I would be at. But no regrets. The past is the past and the only thing I can do is look to the future. I’m pursuing a degree in psychology and I’m hoping to return to my university in about a year. (I moved back home and am attending the local community college). I’m happy, healthy, and excited for what the years will bring. But as for music… I still have my piano and my French horn that isn’t so shiny anymore. Nor does it sparkle. But it still makes that beautiful sound.

“ Music is what feelings sound like. ” - unknown