“You brushed your teeth without me?”
“You brushed your teeth without me?”
I ask crumpled ziploc bag in hand
as I stand for probably the first time that day.
Music conventions often follow a back-pain-inducing pattern:
Sit.
Play.
Sit.
Eat.
Sit.
Play.
And don’t expect to see much sunlight either
(for at least three days)
as hotels and high schools become centers of magic
but anyways,
back to the toothbrush.
I know only one other band kid who cares enough to brush her teeth.
And most days you can find her hunched over the band room’s sink,
praying at the altar of instrumental longevity
(only to then complain about broken keys)
but when those weekends start to define our winters we begin to move as a pair
plastic baggies representative of the memories we share.
We’ve brushed our teeth in the actually nice bathrooms of Monroe Township.
We’ve brushed our teeth and danced to Danzon at NJPAC.
We’ve brushed our teeth in Atlantic City, New Brunswick, and Rochester.
Sometimes it feels like more places than I can count.
And for every memory we share of powerful conductors, memorable music, or halls so magnificent you’d be hard pressed not to double take,
we share more memories of the little moments, more memories of the mundane.
The ones wrapped up in toothpaste, paper towels, and broken sinks galore.
It’s always those memories that I find myself most grateful for.
One Life Beautiful (poem / lyrics start at 1:04)
I’ve been watching you from afar
Heaven’s been quite kind to me
I miss your smiles and the sweet sounds of laughter
Time spent together is precious to me
Years of memories
We only have one life we can share
So let love guide our way
Grief need not reign
Hold on my dear
Look to the stars
Let my spirit guide you
To be who you are
From where you are
I miss you, my love
But I am here
Hold on my dear
Look to the stars
Hope is waiting for you
Open your eyes and your heart