Earlier this week, my son's school band held one of their two performances of the year. Because I had a conference on the same night, I originally thought I would not be able to attend. I told my son about the situation. He was very understanding ... but I still felt bad. A few days before the performance I decided to ask my boss If I could leave the conference early in order to attend the show. He agreed. I was very excited to inform Timmy that I would be at his show. I assured him that although I would be a little late, I would only miss the opening act. He was happy but did not really make a big deal about it.
Parks and Recreation from Deedle-Dee Productions and UMS
I arrived in time to see my son and his friends take the stage. As the stage lights shined into my son's eyes, he attempted to shield them with his hand. In this position, he looked as if he were saluting everyone in attendance. With the glare partially blocked, he eagerly scanned the audience in search of one particular person who had promised to attend his performance.
Naturally, when I saw Timmy scanning the crowd, I assumed he was searching for me. As he turned his head in my direction, I wildly waved my arms so he could see that I had arrived on time for his performance. He saw me, smiled, and continued to his search. Timmy wasn't looking for me at all. My son was looking for Dan, the musician who provided my son with private French horn lessons every week.
A few weeks earlier, Dan had asked my son when and where his performance would be held. I figured that Dan was just being nice and wouldn't really be attending the show. But sure enough, after my son saluted the crowd for another few minutes, he saw Dan standing on the side of the auditorium. Timmy's face lit up as he enthusiastically waved at Dan. Dan tipped his hat to my son and the show began.
Image Credit
After seeing this interaction I thought, "What the heck? I went to all of this trouble to get here and he's more excited to see a guy he sees for 30 minutes per week?"
Then I had another thought, "I am incredibly lucky".
First, I am lucky because my attendance at these events has become second nature. It really isn't special when I attend... because I always attend. I don't miss any of my son's events. I can't remember ever missing one of his baseball or soccer games. I have proudly watched every one of his band and school choir performances. Not everyone is able to be at all of their children's events. Some people need to work multiple jobs in order to provide for their family. Many parents have to travel, work long hours or odd shifts. But not me. I am blessed and I know it.
I continued to ponder the situation. As I reflected on the fact that this man had taken time out of his day to come and see my son perform, I again felt lucky. He had made my son feel special and valued. Kids need to be reminded of their value as often as possible. It's not important who made my son feel special that night, it's only important that he felt it.
As my son and his band mates played "La Rejouissance", my mind wandered to thoughts of all of the other people in my son's life who have helped boost his self esteem. I pictured all of the great teachers and coaches my son has known over the years. Each of these people has played a very important role in making my son the happy kid he is. I tried to think of a way I could repay these influential people for what they have done for my son. Before I could think of one, the song ended and I snapped back to reality. I joined the audience in their applause as the children took their bows. As I peered to my left, I noticed one man applauding louder than everyone else... it was Dan.
Thank you Dan. You made my son's night.
Shia LaBeouf by Rob Cantor and zmyaro