The Greatest Gift

Over the past few years I've purged a lot of 'stuff' from my house. As I do it, I'll remember all the memories these things brought me. Several times when I've moved from house to house I'll find an old record album from my high school days. Back then there were no video tapes, only records. This one was recorded during the New York State Field Band Championships in 1978. The music from the four highest scoring bands was recorded. That year, my senior year, we won first place in our category among New York State marching bands. I remember how hard we worked to get there. I was in the percussion section and had been for years. I played the xylophone in the band and after five years had become quite good at it. That year our percussion solo highlighted the xylophone in it's performance. I remember the pride I felt when my playing was recognized. That year, our drum line was voted the best in the state.

I looked at the old record album each time I cleaned. Several times I was tempted to throw it out but something always made me hold onto it. I felt that someday my children might appreciate hearing their mother solo in a packed stadium.

Fast forward many years.

I was cleaning again a few weeks ago and saw the album. I remembered that my mother still had a record player in her living room so I took the album with me when we went to visit.

"Do you want to hear Mommy play the xylophone in the band?", I asked them. Their eyes lit up. "Oh yeah!" they replied. I put the album in the player and started it.

Immediately I remembered back to that day it was recorded almost thirty years ago. It didn't seem possible it was that long ago, but I could clearly hear each instrument. When it came to the drum solo I said, "Hey kids, here it is!". They pulled their eyes away from the TV for only a few seconds before watching it again.

"Can you hear Mommy?", my mother asked from her chair.

"Yeah," they replied, their eyes glazed over.

When it was over, I quietly put the album away. Then it hit me. I was the one who lived that experience. I was the one who put in so many hours practicing. They just heard a lot of music that could have come from anywhere. They didn't understand the level of competition we were facing.

Over the next few hours I thought about it. I wasn't feeling sorry for myself but so many things I had accomplished in my life filled my brain. I was so proud when I got accepted to Cornell University. After a LOT of hard work and effort I graduated. My diploma was mounted on a piece of mahogany and it hung on my wall for years. My old t-shirts and sweatshirts with the Cornell logo are carefully stored in my closet. All the pictures and things I had collected those years are in a box waiting for who-knows-what.

Then the tears came.

My poor husband was there when I let loose.

"No one cares!" I cried.

"What are you talking about?"

"The kids could have cared less about my championship competition. They have no idea how hard I worked to get there", I choked. "No one knows how hard I worked to graduate from a college filled with extraordinarily smart people. I had to work a lot harder than them to keep up!"

The strangest thing about all this was that I had no self pity. It was more of a realization about life. We all have things we are proud of and the only person who really appreciates our efforts is ourselves. It's nice to have some recognition, but it's better to have the self-satisfaction of a job well done.

My poor hubby just stood there looking at me. He knows that I tend to ramble and get dramatic when I'm upset so he just listened.

On Christmas morning our kids woke us up at 7:00. We went downstairs and watched them open their presents. It's so wonderful to see the excitement on their faces. When the mayhem was over I looked at the pile of gifts that were waiting for me.

My kids gave me such thoughtful things that they had picked out themselves. Then I started opening the presents from my husband. He got me two crystal ornaments I had asked for so I was thrilled. Then I looked down to see another gift he had for me.

Curious to see what was inside I opened it carefully. It was a shirt box. I opened it to find a beautiful red fleece jacket. Embroidered on the top was 'Cornell University'. Under the jacket was a car sticker that said 'Cornell Alumni'.

Just when I think my husband can't be any more thoughtful, he does it again. He knew how important it was for me to remember my past.

The greatest accomplishment of my life was not excelling in music or receiving an Ivy League diploma. It was finding a person that truly cares about the feelings of others; especially mine.