On TBDBITL, I-Dotters, and My Favorite Trombone Player Ever

When I was young, I loved spring and hated autumn. My opinion was that the fall was all about death–the death of green leaves (actually, pretty much anything green, including cars which are soon covered by a layer of grey grit); the death of flowers and blooming bushes; the death of nice weather; the death of daylight (well, I do exaggerate a bit, but it is the death of a reasonable amount of daylight, and especially on overcast days). And then there’s the best benefit: nasty colds and the flu. I remember not finding one bit of joy in the glorious shades of the leaves, the fragrant scents of apple cider and cinnamon and piles of burning leaves, and the promise of fun holidays just ahead.

And then, somewhere along the decades that have (too quickly) passed, I learned to love the fall. I’m ready for the cooler weather and relief from the heat and humidity. I’m eager to make soups and stews and roasts in the crockpot. Mostly, I’m ready for college football, for my team, the Ohio State Buckeyes. And mostly, my absolute favorite band ever, the “pride of the Buckeyes,” the Ohio State Marching Band.

Most of you probably know–since Craig and I still have a tendency to tell anyone and everyone who’ll listen–Robb was a member for 5 seasons. We loved every single moment of that experience, driving down from Akron to the games…going to Skull Session and getting goose bumps when the band marched into St. John Arena…watching the one band member who had my heart: the red-headed trombone player in Row Q. I could pick him out of over 200 members in matching uniforms, no problem. When they’d done a drill at halftime and Robb asked me how I’d liked it, I would generally need to fudge my answer. He knew why. I had been peering through binoculars, watching only 1 band member on that field. He was the one that I loved, and loved watching, loved listening to.

This season, Craig & I decided it was time to take that first step…to attend an OSU game and see the band, live, for the first time since Robb’s death. Not ready yet for the Shoe, we elected to attend an away game, and since the Bucks were at Illinois this year, that seemed like the best opportunity. We knew it would be such fun–and immensely sad. Full of joy–and overflowing with pain. Thrilling–and yet leaving our hearts feeling empty and a deep yearning. It was all that, and more.

I did fairly well until the band did double Script Ohio, and then I noted the isolated trombone player only 3 positions behind the drum major and I-Dotter. Robb had marched that position, and suddenly I couldn’t see the field anymore for the tears. Craig told me later that he’d cried too. The vast hole in my heart opened to new depths of pain, and my arms ached to see…my son. My beloved trombone player. The stark reminder that the trombone player on the field was real and alive and right there before us–but was not Robb–seemed to drive home Robb’s absence in new ways, and to a depth that felt like more than a heart could endure. That was Robb! He was there! How can he not now…be? Because God…I want him! Oh, how I want him…

We chatted with the new director, Jon Waters, after the game. Jon was in the band the same time that Robb was, and we wanted Jon to know that Robb had voiced years ago how much he wanted him to be the next director. He would’ve been so happy for him–and so very proud! And then we met the assistant director, who not only was in the band with Robb, but also was in Robb’s row. More tears…and the comfort of knowing they knew Robb…and so he is not forgotten by TBDBITL either. No, not forgotten.

As we approach this time of year, it will forever be with such mixed emotions…such ambivalence. The joy of Thanksgiving and Christmas, celebrating the birth of our Lord. But feeling the depths of grieving for our son at the very same time. God help me to praise You even as I feel this ache of pain. You experienced this too, far more deeply than I have as You gave Your only Son, for sinful souls like me.

And to you, Robb, know that you will always and forever be my absolute favorite trombone player. I’ll never forget standing there on the sidelines for your practice before the game that day…seeing you so close to the drum major and I-Dotter, watching you follow them around the curves and cross-overs of Script Ohio. We heard your glorious tone coming, Sweetie; you could put out so much sound on that field! I swelled with pride then…and I fill with pride now still.

And once again, I can’t see what’s before me for the tears. I miss you so, sweet son. My favorite trombone player. Ever.