Interlochen Memories - Old and New

The music drifts on the breeze, from under the great awning.

The experience:  magical and familiar all at once.

The flags flutter, the sun glows and reflects on the water,

And I sit, and listen, tearing up.  Why?

 

When I peek, I see my son – my growing-too-big-for-his-mother baby –
Onstage with 200 other musicians.
It amazes me that he is part of something so beautiful,
Something I also participated in, taking pride in what could be accomplished,
And I remember:

 

Music on the breeze, white dresses and red scarves flowing in the wind,

Rooftop dances, Sunday evening concerts,

Morning swims in a chilly lake, Evening sunsets with campfires.

Friends – lyrical dancers and crazy, zany cabin mates –

Hanging out in the cabin, hanging out on main campus – laughter!

Trumpet calls – morning and night – standing on tennis courts in pajamas, calling me home.

 

For it is home.  How?  Twenty-five weeks of my life and this is home?

Yes.  I dream of it, I remember it, I visit it in my mind when life gets hectic,

When life gets rough.
And now, my son gets to experience it.  I see him smile, I see him glow with happiness,
I see him with new friends, and old, sharing this magical experience,
And he is happy, as I was, as I am.

 Oh, sound the call…