Personal Narrative-An Interview With Uncle Eric
Ten whole years have passed by since I last saw him. Since I last saw Uncle Eric. It’s been a long ten years. I was at a marching band championship my freshman year in high school when one of the instructors, Dennis, said something that really touched me. The entire band had gathered together for a pre-performance talk. “When you go out and perform on that field,” Dennis started, “I want you to imagine you’re performing for someone.” We all looked at each other, mildly confused by what he had said. “When you perform, I want you to pretend that you’re performing for someone special, and that the someone special is sitting in the stands watching you. When I perform, I imagine I’m performing for my grandma. I imagine she’s still up there, watching
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He continued to speak. “When you play up to the box, I don’t want you to just aim for the box. I want you to shoot for the stars.” We all looked at each other, confused once again. “I want you to shoot for the stars. Play to the cosmos and make yourself heard. If the loved one you’re playing for is a passed one, this is for you.” The band felt a little uncomfortable now, but we all respected Dennis, and so we took his advice.
I, on the other hand, was in my own world. I was thinking about Uncle Eric, and how I could play to him and for him. Dennis kept on speaking. “Your loved ones are all here to watch you perform, and I want you to play your hearts out for them. Shoot for the stars. Play for your loved ones.”
After that, he dismissed us, and we lined up in preparation for the walk-on to the field. We marched on, and I got to my first set. As we were waiting for the announcer to introduce us, Dennis’ speech played through my mind once again. I thought of Uncle Eric. I would be performing for him today, and every day after that. As the drum major count us off, my thoughts began to slowly cap themselves off. Here’s to our time and memories together, Uncle Eric. I’m shooting for the stars, and I’m never letting go. One. Two. One, two, ready,
He continued to speak. “When you play up to the box, I don’t want you to just aim for the box. I want you to shoot for the stars.” We all looked at each other, confused once again. “I want you to shoot for the stars. Play to the cosmos and make yourself heard. If the loved one you’re playing for is a passed one, this is for you.” The band felt a little uncomfortable now, but we all respected Dennis, and so we took his advice.
I, on the other hand, was in my own world. I was thinking about Uncle Eric, and how I could play to him and for him. Dennis kept on speaking. “Your loved ones are all here to watch you perform, and I want you to play your hearts out for them. Shoot for the stars. Play for your loved ones.”
After that, he dismissed us, and we lined up in preparation for the walk-on to the field. We marched on, and I got to my first set. As we were waiting for the announcer to introduce us, Dennis’ speech played through my mind once again. I thought of Uncle Eric. I would be performing for him today, and every day after that. As the drum major count us off, my thoughts began to slowly cap themselves off. Here’s to our time and memories together, Uncle Eric. I’m shooting for the stars, and I’m never letting go. One. Two. One, two, ready,