Today would have been the first Home Game of the football season. It would’ve also been Senior Day, and my Senior band kid, center snare (!), would’ve been among those honored. Sadly, some of the kids on the opposing team tested COVID positive, so the competition and festivities have been postponed.
Just another disappointment in a year full of disappointments. This one is minor in relation to the illness, the deaths, and the weight of the world that rests on every other earthly shoulder in 2020.
In lieu of the game, the kids had practice. So I decided to take a walk and watch them for a while. I stood outside the gates of the oval in the center of town, listening to them play, and watching them, masked, socially distanced, marching, in place. Just as the music crescendoed, and I was about to burst into tears from the beauty and the synesthesia and the utter sadness of this world, a friendly face arrived. I was overjoyed at the sight of him, so I swallowed my sadness, held back the impulse to hug, and greeted him with a huge smile, and a gregarious hellloooo!
I was grateful for the moment. The community. The music. The beautiful weather. His smiling face. Hopeful words. Some good news. A customary hoot and holler for the band. Even a few laughs. The normalcy of it all.
Being a human in 2020 continually reinforces the fact that nothing is permanent, and nothing is guaranteed. There are no fool proof plans, and there should be no expectations. If we wish to reduce our suffering, we have no choice but to live in the moment. We have to make the most of each and every second we are afforded.
Time marches on. Moment by moment, it marches on. With or without our plans, our worries, our anxieties, our hopes, our disappointments, it marches on.
And so the band marches on. In place.