I got there just before the concert began.
It was in the gym. On the walls were bright colors of a bee, for the “Swarm”. I was in stinger territory.
It was rainy and gloomy and I wasn’t at my peak. I had my tube top on, the one I was told to wear for two-weeks. It really doesn’t bother me. It just tells me that I am still next-to-normal.
My son saw me looking over at the bleachers, with that look on my face that said, “ Ut-oh, a mass of humanity.” He popped up and walked over to get me. They were there early enough to grab front row seats.
As soon as I sat, I looked at the band to see if I could find my grandson.
He was in the trumpet section. He had a fresh haircut and his dad’s trumpet.
The music teacher, a woman of indeterminate age, but wearing tall black boots and a black dress, stood and told the audience what to expect.
This was 6th grade … the first band concert. She said that between this one and the one torward the end of the year, we would notice a big difference.
With that, the performance began.
The tubas had a few false starts. The instruments were as large as the kids who played them.
Stop the music and bring on the memories.
As I watched Connor and his trumpet section play, my eyes welled.
I was sitting next to my son and he was in my vision, too. And there, with his dad’s trumpet, Connor played.
The woman next to me, as well as most of the parents in the audience, took photos and videos.
My heart tugged as I though back to when we went to Ben’s first band concert. And I felt time.
The individual groups were a tad rough, screechy, but when they played together, out came … music.
I watched, intently. I smiled when I saw so many kids keeping time with their feet. Some, tapped their toes. Others, tapped their heals.
I did both.
Again, as we applauded, my eyes got leaky, but I made myself stop it. What is wrong with you, Susan. Get a grip.
After the concert was finished. I saw Connor and said hello and told him I enjoyed the concert. Both of his parents were there, as were his other grandparents. Nick was working.
I drove home in the rain.
Later in the afternoon, I received a call from the surgeon. She was veery nice and asked how I was doing. She said the margins were clear, but that the tumor was over three centimeters, instead of the less than one, that showed up on the mammogram and ultrasound.
That shocked me, a bit. Wow. I wasn’t expecting that. But, it happens. Until they get in there, no one knows for sure.
The good part is that the size of the tumor won’t affect the treatment or prognosis. On to radiation and the estrogen blocking drug.
Oh, good. The Sun just came out. It was very grey until just now.
The Sun is making me smile.
It is going to be a good day.