I must admit. Sometimes when I’m playing the fiddle tune, Soldier’s Joy, it feels like it’s for the one millionth time. Then I remind myself that I’ve been to concerts where bands are playing the same songs they were playing 10 years before. People want to hear them.

I started playing fiddle tunes in the 11^th grade. My best friend was going to be in the school beauty pageant, and wanted me to do it too. Not wanting to play my clarinet or learn a one-time piano masterpiece, I asked my grandfather to take the violin hanging on his living room wall, and have it fixed so that it was “playable.”

He gave it to me for Christmas, and soon, one of my great-uncles was showing me how to rosin the fiddle bow, and another of my great-uncles had given me a fiddle case. I learned to play a medley of three different fiddle tunes in two months, and performed without embarrassment in front of an auditorium full of parents and friends. I didn’t win, but in my mind it was a victory.

Yet another of my great-uncles was so proud of me, that he invited me to play for my very first paying music job at a fancy hotel in downtown Winston-Salem. Uncle Alex, 70 at the time, was a WWII veteran, and he was meeting with veterans from his Army regiment. He seemed so proud of his 16 year old great niece, playing the fiddle for his war buddies. None of his own children or grandchildren had taken an interest in playing traditional music. It was surprisingly later until I realized the role that the music had played in the lives of my grandfather’s family.

Even after the pageant, I ‘fiddled around’ just a little with the instrument, until the next year when the pageant rolled around again.

My 16 year-old best friend died in a car accident that fall. My grandfather did as well, from lung cancer. I decided to go ahead and enter the competition again that Spring, using the fiddle my grandfather had given me, inspiration from my friend, and more help from yet another great-uncle.

Uncle Cub taught me to play the Orange Blossom Special for the pageant. I won.

I was pleased with myself, knowing how proud my friend, Carrie, and my grandfather would have been of me. Shy and reticent, I was stepping outside my comfort zone to be in such a spotlight.

But it hasn’t been until now, 20 years later, now that I truly appreciate what I won.

I continued to play for several years, and then didn’t play at all for nearly a decade. In the last two years, I have been re-learning the old tunes I once knew, and learning brand new ones.

All of my great-uncles have died.

At the time in high school when I was first learning to play the fiddle, college was looming over my head like a convicted criminal awaiting sentencing. I remember feeling like I could leave that small town and never look back. There was a lot of good to look back on though, I believed.

The more places I’ve seen and more people I’ve met, the more I appreciate just how right I was.

Though I started playing music to enter a contest with a friend, I’ve never been more certain that music is not meant to be a competition. It is an expression, a link to sentiment, it is a constant challenge, meant to be fun and make people smile, dance, or remember.