Nearly 50 years ago, I placed my silver Getzen Doc Severinson Model B-flat trumpet into its case for the last time. I walked away from music and the passion of my early life without looking back.
Even my son, who briefly studied trumpet, couldn’t get me to pick it up and play. It was a wound that refused to heal. My memories of hours of study, auditions, performances and lessons that brought me to tears remained. But the willingness and ability to reopen the case was barred.
Without understanding the why, I found myself ready to walk back through the long-locked gate. I brought the horn in for a thorough cleaning and found a teacher.
I could lament the years where I could have been playing, but I won’t. I wasn’t ready. But I am now….for as long as it feels right.
