Friday, October 9th was the last march. Tayden marched in his final marching band for our family. When Trent decided to stay in band in high school, I vaguely remember sitting at our first football game for marching band. I brought all the kids to the game. Tayden was only 7, and he had no idea how many marching band nights were in his future. Back in Lisle, the band commonly invited the eighth graders to march at one game, so my first marching band football game may have been in 2009, but I don’t remember that game. Maybe Lisle hadn’t started the tradition yet or maybe I wasn’t committed yet, so the impact of the craziness didn’t hit me. In 2010, I remember trying to keep track of the smaller kids and contemplating the endless years of chilly, busy Friday nights that I was potentially facing. Could I do this?

Trent traded band for choir for his sophomore year in high school, so I didn’t attend many football games in 2011. But Taryn joined the band the following year and I was in for the long haul. Taryn, Tessa, and Tayden marched all four years in high school, with Taryn straddling two years in Lisle and two years in Valparaiso. Band is the one constant that all my kids participated in. Travis and I have sat at games in shorts and t-shirts, but those were rare, hot August games. We have also sat in freezing games, in winter coats, hats, gloves, scarves, and blankets, proudly declaring, “We’re with the band!” Ask Tayden. Every time the band marched by, playing cadence, or sometimes more, at the end of the game, I would stand up and yell, “WE’RE WITH THE BAND!! GO BAND! YEAH!” To Tayden’s (and Taryn’s and Tessa’s) endless credit, they never once acted embarrassed by it. In fact, that chant was a direct result of my overwhelming pride in my kids. It was like that pride just couldn’t be contained and had to be celebrated. The parents of the football players whooped and yelled. Even the parents of the cheerleaders did. I’m not one to be left out. 

So, I sit here trying to type this, hoping it makes sense, with tears streaming down my face. It’s over. My endless years of marching band have ended. For those that know me, you may be surprised by my emotion. I know I am. I was not the tearful mom that dropped little Tayden off at Kindergarten. I was the one whooping for my few hours of freedom. I still had so much time. Somehow, now I feel the stranglehold of endings taking hold of me. This, Tayden’s senior year in high school, may be the toughest year yet. I will celebrate his accomplishments in music and theater while holding back tears. People love to ask if you would go back to high school, would you. I always say no. Those years were great and awful for a million reasons. But I would go through my kids high school years again. There were some tough parenting years in there, but overall, these were the glory years. 

I wish I had enough time to track down photos of each kid in marching band, but I didn’t plan for that. For now, the pictures are of Tayden’s senior night and his last night marching off the field. They didn’t use the marching uniforms this season because of Covid. They are all stored in one big closet, and the school didn’t think there was any way to keep them clean through the season. I’m just happy they marched. And now I’m sad it’s over. But what a run! GO BEARCATS!!!