Farewell

Music turn-in day

Is tomorrow.

While really it's just

Placing the papers in piles

According to instrument and part

Trying to organize everything

And hoping nothing's wrinkled

Frantically erasing all notation that's been written on

And you'd better hope you thought to write it in pencil

And not pen,

It feels like saying farewell

To dear friends

Leaving them

Letting them go

Learning to move on

As you slowly forget the notes

You'd very nearly memorized

And learn new songs

New pieces

In new years to come.

I hate this part.

I'm bad at letting go.

The worst.

And letting go

Of my best friends -

While they may only be

Black dots typed on a page

Trills and slurs and staccato -

Bar lines and clefs and rests -

I feel

So sad.

We're not supposed to photocopy them

We're not supposed to keep them

And if we do, only one or two,

But today

I do so with every

Single 

One.

I do not want to forget this year

And I'm scared of forgetting the notes

I'm scared of forgetting the songs

I'm scared of forgetting the music

And what it's done for me.

I played in concert

New tunes I did not know.

It was fine

But it's more emotional

When you've been there with the song

From day one -

From sight reading all together,

To merciless practice sessions with sore fingers,

To rehearsal after rehearsal,

Fine tuning, adjustments, squeaks and squonks and all the things -

Yes, that means more

Than just jumping into a song

For a concert

For the best part and

Skipping all the rest

And then having it be over

Just like that.

It shortens your relationship with the music

And minimizes your emotional attachment to it.

The emotional attachment

Is what makes me play well.

It means

That the goodbye

Hurts.

It feels

As if I am losing a piece of myself.

Farewell, music.

I will remember

Not for my copies

But because I want to remember

This year

And the memories,

The jokes,

All the things

That these songs

Created for me.

Farewell,

Farewell,

Farewell.