Nearing the End

It's getting down to the wire now, and I'm already experiencing some of my 'last' moments. My 'last' set of midterms. My 'last' research papers. My 'last' few weekends of unbridled Fordham debauchery. This past weekend I experienced another 'last' event: my final choir concerts at Fordham.

I've been a member of the Fordham University Choir since day one, and while it has been a big time commitment, I've enjoyed it thoroughly. Singing was always a way for me to unwind; it's kind of difficult to worry about boys, friends, and schoolwork when you are busy at rehearsals trying to nail that precise A flat. When I returned from London this winter, I was elected Vice President, which was a big honor for me and also transformed choir into a larger commitment. It took up alot of my time when I wasn't at work or at class.

Every couple of months we have a 'concert weekend' in which we hold two performances showcasing some pieces we've been working on. Last weekend was our final concert weekend of the year, and we sang Mozart's Requiem, which is a really exciting and well-known piece (think the movie Amadeus). It was exhilarating to sing such an iconic work, and our concerts went beautifully. We had professional orchestral accompaniment as well as professional soloists; we even got standing ovations at the end of each performance. I felt like I went out with a bang.

When the concerts were finally over, and I was back in my room hanging up my long, black choir gown, I was surprised to be overcome by a wave of sadness. For the past two weeks I had been so busy preparing for the concerts, and now that it was over, I was faced with the stark reality that it was never going to happen again. No more concerts. Hell, I wasn't even going to wear my ugly black choir gown again. This realization depressed me. My Dad, who had come down to see my final performance, cheered me up a little; he pointed out that this was not the end of my singing, it was just the end of my time with the Fordham Choir. I was grateful that he put things in perspective for me.

A couple of days ago the choir met again to elect officers for the new year. Being one of the only seniors at the meeting (our President was rather uninvolved with choir this semester), I conducted the elections. The newly elected officers were all a bunch of easily excitable sophomores, but they were also quite dedicated to choir, so I knew that they would effectively serve the group.

Now, at the end of every choir rehearsal, our director Rob dismisses us but always announces: "Officers, stick around." So I never leave on time; I hang out with the other leaders of the group and discuss fund-raising, publicity, etc. However, at our last rehearsal, post-elections, Rob announced: "New officers, stick around. Everyone else can go."

It was a weird moment for me as I realized that my responsibilities had ended. For the first time all year, I was not needed after rehearsal. The new president and vice president, both fellow altos, turned to me and grinned excitedly, ready to take up their posts.

"Well girls," I said, and I couldn't help smiling at their enthusiasm. "I pass this on to you. Good luck."

"Thanks Annie," they replied, and I turned and left.

As I walked home, I felt a strange mixture of emotions well up in me. I was sad about the closure of that one chapter, relieved at the lessening of my responsibility, and overriding all of this, I felt a kind of exhilaration. There's a month left here at Fordham, and before I know it I will be swept away into the uncertainty of the real world, never to return to my collegiate bubble. The post college adventure is almost at my fingertips, although the transition is already bittersweet.