Mourning a dream of the symphony

Without any prior warning, I experienced a profound moment of mourning while sitting in the audience for the Seattle Symphony, listening to the Nimrod movement of Elgar's Enigma Variations.
I wanted to listen to the performance since it had been announced - the piece is both fascinating and beautiful - but (no offence to Elgar and Elgar fans) it has never been my favorite. I was expecting to go in, enjoy a lovely performance, and walk out largely feeling the same as I had when I first walked in. This is not what occurred.
In the movements prior to Nimrod, I was already marveling in the sound. Having been away from playing in an orchestral setting for over a year, my emotions were a wash of reminiscence.
The moment Nimrod started, having being played attacca from the prior movement, I knew that something was different. The symphony had dedicated the movement to the recent horrific attack in Las Vegas over the past week, and the sound as a result was heavy with grief. My breath caught in my throat as the music swelled, and although there was a small smile on my face I found myself slowly crying.
I would like to say that I was overwhelmed with emotion from heartbreak over the violence in Nevada, but while it was present in my mind, I knew that I was crying for an entirely different reason.
Since I was in middle school I knew I wanted to be a musician. By the time I was in high school, I knew I wanted to play in a symphony. I wanted to be a part of that sound. I wanted to play beautiful, legendary music.
Throughout my collegiate career, I had slowly abandoned that dream. Not with anger, and not out of spite, but because my interests had shifted. I wanted to create new music. I wanted to make sounds no one had heard before. I am lucky to say that these days, I am living that idea. I am making that idea into a career. I find joy in the music that I make. I am absolutely thrilled in the direction that my life has turned. But along the way, I had not yet said goodbye to the symphony. I had not yet grieved the loss of my dream.
So sitting in the audience, looking up at the symphony, I said my goodbyes.