Toronto 2017

Where to start.

Well, a good start might be that this post was not actually written on this day but rather the body of the text composed mostly September 5, 2017. It happened around this time however, and I am also choosing to bury it here in old archives because of a reason that would make a better start: This post is for a very specific group of friends who would understand that I am being like Grandpa Recollecting, writing about an experience in Toronto from this summer, we did a "great job, guys", and although it's over It's Not Goodbye.

If that confused you I apologize because this post will make no objective sense because it is a memoir without context, though you are welcome to stay and I hope you get a good feeling from it.

And if you do understand, then please know that I miss you dearly and cannot wait to meet again.

Just a few memories to repaint the feeling from where I sat:

The reverb of the bass.

The warmth of the Clarinet solo.

The glow of the laps on our stands, illuminating the tips of the faces of friends breaking up the darkness around.

The feeling of us all sitting there together, moving together to make music.

White-capped shoulders of (I can't read my own writing)

Crack the Mountain Ramparts' low, velvet harmonies

The warm, loving, happy tones of people so excite to meet eachother that filled the aud during intermission; strangers who don't know eachother but love eachother.

Their sincere thanks that make us want to thank them for their thank-you. (How Canadian ;)

There were kilts.

Cascading pot lights in the darkened aud.

Piano sides

The flutes playing and singing into the fans.

The flutes always going outside.

Clarinet shenanigans.

"Great job, guys" from a wonderful leader.

How petrified we all were the first day, versus our screaming after the first show.

The voice that always said our calls when "this is your 10 minute call, your 10 minute call"

Searching the crowd for white (international) lanyards. (But don't forget to remove the orange ones!)

Being so happy that we get to keep our orange ones.

The screaming and cheering in the hallway after. "We did it!!!!!"

The draft that always seemed to come in from stage left.

The white teeth and white swirly aprons, highlighting a winning smile.

The girl in the green suit that was like the goose at the tip of the flock.

Expressive and joyful dancers

Perfectly in-sync movements of the sisters in the dance with the yellow orange and blue and black outfits.

The off clapping while trying to keep in time with the dance music because the sound had so far to travel.

The adorable kid in the front row.

Beer boy.

Running down the aisle to make it before your section's entry during practice.

Him Tortons

The first time we saw it all together and the giant roll of toilet paper that was passed around.

"Everything is subject to change"

Tradition of "Shhhh" to clarinet 2 before every show.

You'll meet my pet alligator.

Tossing the alligator toy around at the end of the day.

How hot it was upstairs.

How cold it got downstairs. The last one was basically the Northwest passage.

This has been the most wonderful experience ever. I have never been so happy to belong here. I remember making the connection of two long lost musicians who felt like loving parents, a flutie (flute + buddy = flutie) who always picked the white dog hair off my black cardigan, and getting to know wonderful forever friends. Getting to know people who care very deeply, who are as humble as they are talented, and always so sincere and making up a group with colourful personalities that is also yet harmonious.

While this was a privilege form of service and volunteering, being involved in this activity in this group has also truly has been a "perfect present".

I could have lived in those two hours forever.  I don't want to forget any part of this, and thinking about that as a possibility really scares me. I am convinced that although we cannot live in those two hours forever, we can carry the feeling forward forever.

As the vocalists put in their letter, we won't let it get to our heads, but it will stay in our hearts where it belongs.

See you later. We won't give up!

---
p.s. For anyone who didn't get to read it, here is a slightly modified version of the card poem,

With this time spent preparing to say
“Don’t Give Up Now (or ever!)”
It has been such a joyous pleasure and
Privilege to share in together.

Memories, movements, and breaths we make,
Words and views to a beat,
Echoes to encourage the delegates
And convey a love complete.

We thank our Creator for these joys and gifts,
To him we do applaud!
And create a sound for all to hear
The name of Jehovah, our Happy God.

So with dear friends It’s Not Goodbye;
These bonds will never sever.
Let us keep the pace, endure to the end,
And make music to our God forever.

We want to say a special thank-you
For patiently leading us through song,
Working hard to shape the music,
Expressing confidence all along.

We now go on with kind reminders
And prayers we’ll never know in tow.
Time to “look up!”, leave room for the Spirit,
And the love will show!

--

Note: This blog has no affiliation any organizations. The contents of this blog do not reflect the stance or statements of any organizations. The contents of this blog are purely my own personal thoughts and feelings.