Let The Music Begin Again!

On Wednesday of last week, I finally sold my beloved alto saxophone.

Here are some pics of my Yamaha YAS-62 professional alto saxophone. It's a gorgeous instrument in pristine condition, and someone needs to be using it to make beautiful music again.

As I got it ready to sell, I played a few notes on it and I still sounded pretty good, if I might say so myself!

Every fall the music boosters holds a used instrument sale. And every fall I debate and debate whether or not to finally sell my saxophone. This year, I finally decided it was time to do so. Even though I was finally ready to let go and sell it, the process was filled with emotions. Why? Because it's not about the saxophone. It's about the senses of loss and grief I continue to feel as part of the chronic illness.

I have had the same vivid dreams for years now--of going the band room to find my saxophone and it's not there, of not being able to make it to marching band practice because I'm sick, of losing my place in symphonic band. In many of the dreams, illness keeps interfering with my opportunities to participate in band activities. Either that or I get to the band room and all of the crappy saxophones are there and not mine! I'm really hoping that these dreams are going to stop now that I sold the darned thing!

After the sale, Mom called from the high school to say: "I'm leaving empty handed. I have a check in my hand." My stomach flipped and I felt a little sick.

We really didn't think it would sell because most parents are looking to buy a lower-end instrument. If it hadn't sold though, I would have had to pursue other avenues to sell it and I really wanted the money to benefit the music boosters here. In the end, the instrument sold to a dealer, not a local student so my saxophone won't be filling the same auditorium with music as it did when I used it.

The next day after the sale, I finally felt a new sense of relief.

I felt relieved that the saxophone was no longer sitting in a closet unused. I also felt that I could finally let go of any unrealistic expectations I had about either playing the instrument again myself or passing it on to a child of mine. If I do have a child, I want them to choose their own passions and activities, not my old ones.

And even though I love everything about this saxophone--the memories it holds, how it sounds, how it feels to play it, and the beauty of the instrument itself--I cannot picture myself playing it again.

Even if I got better would I ever play it again? Would I want to? I don't enjoy playing alone. I love playing in a group. While there are community bands and such to participate in, I just can't picture playing saxophone as one of the activities I'd want to go back to.

I think it was hard for me to admit this to myself, especially after putting so many years and so much love into playing music and into the purchase of the instrument itself. It was the first big thing I saved money towards.

In the end I don't need a lovely instrument being left unused. I already have all of the memories of marching band, jazz band, concert band and symphonic band, and community theater performances. I have the memories of the friends, the teachers, and the lessons I learned. I have the memory of what if felt like to buy, play and enjoy such a gorgeous instrument.

Most of all, I have the love and appreciation of music forever in my soul.

When I feel better, I need the emotional space to find new ways to enjoy my passions. By selling the saxophone, I made space for the new and let go of a little bit more of the past, to which I often hold too tightly.

It's time for someone else to make beautiful music! Let the music begin again with someone new.

Blessings,

Emily

Photos: My YAS-62 alto saxophone, ready for the instrument sale.