Our “Chief”
Everyone
has those embarrassing moments in life that they wish they could
forget; yet for some reason we tend to remember every meticulous
detail. For me, it was not just one particular moment as much as it
was a reoccurring one every December during my days as a student at
Carteret High School. In high school, I was proud to be a clarinet
player in our Wind Ensemble. Although I always enjoyed playing the
clarinet, the stigma of being in the band was not always the
greatest. Of course the fact that our uniforms were equipped with
long black skirts, tuxedos shirts, and blue bow ties did not help the
reputation either.
Nevertheless,
I stuck with the clarinet and, every December, Carteret Wind Ensemble
put on a Holiday Show in the high school auditorium. As one can
imagine, the holiday concert did not exactly draw as large of a crowd
as a Rambler football game did on a Friday night. However, there was
sure to be one very special guest in attendance for eight years
straight while my sister and I were a part of the show. My
grandfather, or as we would say, “Pop-Pop”, would drive up to
Carteret from Freehold one hour in advance to ensure he had the best
seat in the house. His selection of a seat was very important because
he needed to be sure the lighting and angle was just right so that he
could not only record every song and solo, but also have the most
direct view of my seat.
At the end of each show, Pop always insisted
on taking family photographs while outside the auditorium. Each
painstakingly slow process of the photograph would make my palms
sweat in embarrassment as I watched all of my friends walk by and
stare at me in my blue bow tie. I would urge and plea saying, “Pop
please! No more!” and his reply was always, “Ok just one more!”
At the age of sixteen, I just could not understand why he felt the
need to subject me to that awful humiliation.
Now,
ten years later and a teacher at Carteret High School, there is no
longer a holiday concert to attend. The number of band members has
dwindled to a few dozen, and even the crowds at the sporting events
have dropped significantly. My repressed feelings of embarrassment
have suddenly become feelings of sadness for my students. I have come
to realize that my Pop-Pop was so rare.
He never missed any of my
concerts, or my sister’s high school plays, or my brother’s
baseball games. He proudly boasted of all of his grandchildren’s
accomplishments whether it was water polo matches, hikes across the
countryside of Spain, or even a good day at school for my little
cousin Megan. Every photograph, email, or video he took was shared
with anyone who would watch. He transformed what might have seemed
like a small insignificant moment to us - into something that we
could be proud of forever. I have learned from him the importance of
supporting the ones you love and I know one day when I have my own
family I will be at every bake sale, basketball game, and holiday
concert I possibly can be. I only wish my students now could
experience even half of the support we had from our Pop-Pop.
I
recognize now how lucky my cousins and I were to have such an amazing
grandfather. He was, and always will be our biggest fan. It has only
been a few weeks now without him, and I miss him terribly. I miss his
weekly e-mail updates, his videos of his animal friends from Indiana,
and even his political commentary. As heartbroken as I am that
Pop-Pop will not be sitting at the end of the table this year at
Christmas dinner, or at my brother’s wedding next Fall - I know he
will be there in spirit, one hour in advance to make sure he gets all
of the best shots. I promise we won’t be complaining Pop, take as
many as you want.