Every year late Fall brings an onslaught of rehearsals, programs, recitals, concerts, weddings, and extra lessons for students who are also involved in their own rehearsals, programs, recitals, and concerts. It is a fact that Christmas music sets a mood. So those of us who call ourselves musicians begin rehearsing in October for the December Mood. So, after the last program, the final reception, and the last minute of the last lesson is finished, I hit THE WALL. It’s the inevitable adrenaline dropout following the frenzy.
If you have followed the blog since Thanksgiving you know that the family had a fabulous, crazy time together over a period of eight days, followed by the incubation of a cold virus that keeps on giving for about two weeks. We’ve coughed, sneezed, wheezed, snorted, gagged, cried—most everything except sleeping—since Thanksgiving Day. Combine the GERM with the FRENZY and the result is FATIGUE.
Yesterday the final program involved arranging three songs for two clarinets, one violin, and one French horn (totally 7 ½ hours), rehearsing one morning, baking goodies for the reception (white chocolate fudge arranged in a wreath with live holly and berries, cranberry almond bread arranged on a platter with the same). It also included writing a descriptive piece for three student violinists and one four year old student, their baby sister, who played four percussion instruments. Add another 5 hours or so. And we rehearsed at three of their lessons—total of three hours. They drove an hour into town at 9:30 a.m. to perform. I hauled stuff to the car for about 15 minutes. Add another 15 to drive across town and an additional 15 hauling same stuff inside and returning. There were about 60 people attending the program, and truthfully, the music was mediocre, but the results were…..priceless. Everyone is in a good mood, is ready for Christmas, and full of joy after being entertained by old and young alike, eating beautiful goodies, singing “Peace on Earth”. Emotionally, I was also drained from watching my Mother attend this program alone, without my Daddy. It was always one of the celebrations for their anniversary to attend this program each year. One year I played “I’ll be Home for Christmas” for them as a surprise gift. They were married December 5, 1942, and Daddy shipped out with the Army one week later. It was almost three years before they were reunited. This year, their 67th anniversary, he is truly Home with the Father.
For about two hours after this final program of the season I am ready to bake, wrap, shop, mail, and decorate. So I shopped and wrapped, finally cried a little while I was alone, and then went to my massage therapist for my pre-scheduled appointment. And then it happened: THE WALL. About 30 minutes into the appointment I felt completely drained of all ambition, energy and intelligence. I managed to drive myself home, drank the prescribed water after massage, and then decided I must have a nap. Three and a half hours later I woke up. It was dark. I was completely disoriented. Scooter the Sheltie was hungry. Body Flow was finished. I was totally toast—no adrenaline left. I had no problem going to sleep last night either. This morning I almost felt rested, but THE WALL is still there. Perhaps it is physical and my body is just tired. Perhaps it is spiritual and I need time to soak in His presence. Perhaps it is emotional and I am grieving more than I realize. Perhaps it is a triple whammy?