Last week, I had the unique opportunity to take the stage during the same concert as my daughter. We both belong to jazz ensembles - I’m a member of the Foothills Music Society jazz band, and she is part of Jazz 8 at St. John Paul II Collegiate.
It’s something she’s come by honestly, watching for years as her parents both played brass instruments. She was able to make rudimentary noises on my trumpet from about age 3 (once she was finally able to comprehend the fact the mouthpiece goes on the mouth, not in it).
Brooke started debating which wind instrument she wanted to play by the time she was in kindergarten, and waiting for six years was difficult for the girl who couldn’t wait to get her hands around something brass, feel valves under her fingertips and make music.
She chose the tuba.
The tuba.
My girl - short for her age since Grade 1, lugged a gigantic tuba home from school when she started band in Grade 6. She entertained her siblings with oompas as soon as she mastered the airflow, but it was just the beginning of a budding passion.
By the time she entered St. JPII for Grade 7, she was in love with music, with creating majestic sounds and making baselines melodious. She was beginning to see it as an art.
Through all these years, she watched me leave the house for jazz rehearsals every week, and sometimes tagged along. She attended all my concerts, one each December and another in the spring, and something stirred in her.
She wanted to play jazz, too. But when was the last time someone played a tuba in a regular jazz ensemble?
So, naturally, she approached her music teacher and asked to learn the trombone. She took lessons during lunch hours through the spring and practiced at home over the summer. And in September, she proudly joined Jazz 8 with her second brass instrument in-hand.
When I sat in the theatre at Holy Trinity Academy last week, watching her move to the music as she played, I couldn’t help but think - wow, she’s like her mom.
Of course, she is also my mini-me, so this isn’t completely surprising.
When I took the stage an hour later, I saw her point me out to her friends. I couldn’t help but think - not a lot of parents and children get the chance to share something like this together.
I’m very proud of my girl, and I am honoured to have taken the same stage as such a talented, ambitious young lady.
