All-State Orchestra, Resilience, and Aunt Kathy

Last weekend was Mary’s All-State Orchestra. The student musicians got to rehearse on Friday and perform in Orchestra Hall on Saturday. She had a great time, seeing friends from summer camp and playing wonderful music with a wonderful conductor. She filled the hall with her tone on her solos on the Prokofiev. Bill and I got to be there in the hall and afterward the three of us celebrated at a fancy downtown restaurant where I may have had a second glass of champagne. Congrats to Mary, her friend Emily and all the high school musicians. THEY EARNED IT!!!!!

From what I hear, high school kids do not want to hear the word resilient. They don’t want to be called resilient. They want nothing to do with resilience. It’s a four letter word. They didn’t try to be resilient. They just did what they were required to do. They just want their lives back. Covid has robbed them of three of their four years of high school. Mary had one semester of a normal freshmen year. Then it hit the fan. Now she’s a junior. She doesn’t know what the faces of her friends and teachers look like. She hasn’t seen them since February of 2020. It’s my blog so, in tribute to my Aunt Kathy, I’m gonna say what I want. . . . we did this to them. We put the burden of Covid on our youth. Shame on us. Grownups protect kids. Kids don’t protect grownups. Maybe, just maybe we are on the downhill. Maybe, just maybe she can have a normal senior year. Screw resilience. There’s no big lesson to be learned, just let them get on with their lives.

Our Aunt Kathy, my dad’s older sister passed away earlier this week. She was tough as nails. My mom remembers her propensity to say hell no. She and my mom developed a deep relationship after my dad died at 69 in 2009. She stayed with my mom during that time, and then Kathy called her every Sunday night at 7:00 until dementia removed time and space from her. She came to the cabin in August during those years and we got to know her during smoke breaks at the front yard picnic table. I think I have the same Stephens face shape as her. She listened to Calvin play the piano and painted rocks with Mary, whom she called Mary Ray of Sunshine. She dressed like a rock star. Literally. Jeans and white t-shirts and vintage jackets from Goodwill. She was unapologetically herself. She said what was on her mind, always. Never mean. Never cruel. Always honest. She was comfortable to be around. No airs.

Somehow, when someone is so completely honestly themselves, it gives you permission to be your own self. Not that we get to let it all hang out, but that we can be our very best, and most honest selves. God bless you Aunt Kathy. I wrote this blog in honesty, in tribute to you.