I remember the ticking of my alarm clock as I sat up in my bed. The mattress was stripped of it’s sheets, and there were surely stains that I couldn’t get out. To my left was the one window I had in such a small bedroom. The strings to keep the blinds up didn’t work, but I managed to at least see the clear blue skies of that summer day, even with such a short stature.
The summer really was coming in late this may, but it surely wasn’t going to disappoint me.
Too bad I wouldn’t be in this house long enough to celebrate the season. There wouldn’t be a barbecue this month. There wouldn’t be family time in the pool. There wouldn’t be any time to fix our broken hot tub so mom could relax and de-stress her tired bones.
I always think of may as an “if only” now. If only I had searched for someone to sponsor me as a singer, maybe we would’ve had enough money to save the house. If only I had taken chances and gone out to perform on the streets of this old prairie, maybe I’d have gained enough money that way. If only I’d have kept in touch with my brothers more, they wouldn’t feel so distant.
If I had been a lot more brave and spoken up, then even if it’s just a little, would it have changed anything for my family?
I’ll keep on saying “It”ll be okay.” because if I stay with such a gloomy out put, nothing will change. Someone’s gotta be positive about things, and if it’s only me then that’s fine.
That’s fine so..
Even if I have to say goodbye to this house, to the prairie and country side I’ve lived in, to the unbearable summer heat; it’ll be okay.
Some day, if anything, I want to feel truly a live again once I’ve got a stable job and income. At the very least, if there’s any other summer that could feel just as sweet, I want to wake up to the sound of those rhythmic foot steps yet again.
I want to wake up to the sound of someone blowing a whistle and holding up a number to a song. More than anything, I want to feel my heart pace in excitement as woodwinds, tanners, sax’s, and the loud beat of the percussion re-awaken my dormant soul.
Even if I have to settle with just the ticking of this old metallic clock, I’ll wait until I can relive those melodic days. I can at least say High school marching band was the most memorable of subjects I’m happy I took.
Today is May 5th, 2016. On may 15th, my family and I will have left our comfort and shelter to search for a better future.
In august, I’ll be 20. Today, I’ll be 19 1/2. For today, I’ll say goodbye to the house I was held so dearly in. With all the good memories and the bad, I’ll say good bye...
So today, I'll pack my dusty and old clarinet case in a box; along with my old music folder and forgotten music sheets and military song sets. Even if I can no longer play those happy tunes from the damage my jaw has gradually accumulated through the years. I'll throw away my black marching shoes so to clear up space, since they are too small a size to wear any more, even for my bandaged right foot.
When everything is settled, I won't say good bye anymore. Rather, I'd like to say hello once more to the feeling of straining my wrists to hit the notes fast enough, and to work hard with a group of instruments so that someday, after the finale of our concert, we can scream and laugh and cry and party to congratulate ourselves for working hard to the very end.
Until then, as I take one final glance to that dusty black case before closing up the card board box, fare well.