What a ride!

Mark had a concert last night, in which he sang with both the Master Singers and the Chambers Singers.  At the end of the concert, Mr. Drafall, the choral director at the high school said to me, "Well, it's been quite a ride with Mark over the last four years.  Wow!"

I must concur--what a wonderful ride it has been.

Last night was Mark's last performance with the Chamber Singers at the high school, and his second-to-last performance with the Master Singers.  He has been a Tenor I in those groups since he was a sophomore, and his voice was still unchanged.  Although he's more of a baritone now, he still sings in those top ranges.

Mark made it into both groups a year earlier than most because of his musical abilities.  I remember him telling me (while still in 10th grade) that he didn't say a word in any Chamber Singers rehearsals, because most of the remaining 16 kids were seniors.  He was still around 5'6" and just a baby :-)  At the end of that year, Randy Hulet and Jilli Warburton (both graduating seniors) gave Mark a pitch pipe, perhaps knowing what he would do in that group after they left.  When I told Mr. Drafall that story, he recognized the beauty in the moment and has since had Mark give every pitch at every Chamber Singers concert.  He is now 6'4" (at least at last measurement a couple of months ago), his voice has changed and he knows now (in a humble way) how good he is.

Master Singers is a bit larger group, consisting of about 60 kids.  However, this group wins everything.  In fact, if I were any other high school singing group on the East Coast, I would not want to compete with them.  Ethan was invited to join the group for his last two years of high school, and thankfully, he and Mark sang together when Ethan was a senior and Mark a sophomore.  No doubt, they were the strongest and highest tenors of the group :-)  It was beautiful to see them, always standing close to each other, singing.

Last night, Mark was invited to play "In Remembrance", a piece written for choir, piano and horn.  He had the opportunity to audition for the part at District Chorus and won, but this time, he was specifically invited by Mr. Drafall to play it.  (It was a proud moment to have Mr. Drafall introduce Mark, and tell the audience that he would be attending the University of Michigan in the fall to study french horn and German.)  Naturally, I had heard him play "In Remembrance" before, in front of a larger audience, and in a more prestigious setting, but there was something very sentimental about this performance.  I was taken back to his first year in Master Singers when he was asked to play the horn accompaniment for the choir when they sang "Set Me As a Seal".  Like I said, he was so small, and his horn technique was rudimentary.  It was before Angela and road trips to Philadelphia.  It was before he knew how much horn would be a part of his life.  Last night, he was in his tuxedo, all grown up, and I realized that his time with me is almost over.

And I started to cry.  Right there in the audience.  I could hardly keep my shoulders from shuddering.  Between the emotion from the moment, and the emotions I was already feeling because of Angela's beautiful tribute to "Music Moms" and to me specifically, I just couldn't control the tears.  Too, it was an honor for Mark to have Mr. Drafall walk over after the conclusion of the song and personally shake Mark's hand.  I've seen him give bows to soloists before, but there was something personal and beautiful about that handshake.  (The video is terrible, but the sound is pretty good.)



My experience with Ethan was unique in that he was my oldest child.  He and I learned a lot of things about parent/child relationships while he was growing up.  Thankfully, I knew a few things by the time Mark came along, but he too has carved his own niche in my heart.

Mark has embraced music since he was born.  He was humming before he was speaking.  He was singing before he ever touched the piano.  We used to yell from the kitchen, ordering him to stop playing various Bach 2-part inventions because we couldn't hear ourselves think.  I remember being woken from sleep at 6:30 a.m. by him practicing the horn.  He was my one child that always wanted to play music with me.  He didn't care what it was--something he had studied, something we were sight reading, hymns, classical music, jazz.  He'll come into the kitchen in the morning now, running down the stairs and sliding across the floor, singing "On the Street Where You Live",  the baritone solo from "My Fair Lady".  To find his "zone" before auditions, he busts out the break dancing moves and beat boxes.  Music (of any kind) just flows from him.

So many memories.

I think too that it was a more poignant moment for me, because one thing Mark is is forgetful.  When he goes away on trips and such, he rarely, if ever, remembers to call me.  He gets caught up in the rehearsals and friends and social activities.  Same with Interlochen--maybe that's why I'm having him stay with me this summer instead of camping :-)  Knowing that he'll be at Michigan, I know that he won't remember to call.  He'll be doing all of those same things--music, rehearsals, school, and social activities.  When we see each other again, he'll have a lot to say (as he always does), but that day-to-day contact will be gone.

What a ride this has been.  Just like when I'm on a roller coaster, and the ride is coming to an end, I wish I could go around one more time.  So too, I wish my ride with Mark could last just a little bit longer.  I'm just not ready to get off.