I hear you dude. I've been emotional plenty of times over musicians and music.

Here's a baller story about a conductor:

So I'm at the Kennedy Center and I'm watching Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos, an incredible Spanish conductor. This guy is 80 years old and looks it. At this concert he's been going non-stop.

But now they're playing The Pines of Rome and I'm noticing that one or two musicians in the very back of the orchestra are getting up and leaving. Some stage right, some stage left. (Pines of Rome will make the hair on the back of your neck stand up, it's that good.)

I look over at my girlfriend with a quizzical face. She whispers that they're probably done performing so they're leaving, or perhaps they're going off stage to switch instruments.

But then the second chair violinists begin gesturing to each other strongly. Suddenly one of them gets up and runs off stage!

I'm like wtf. Meanwhile, the Burgos is handling the concert perfectly, the timing is excellent, the music is amazing. From the audience's perspective, everything is running smoothly.

And then it happens. Burgos wobbles. Time seems to slow down. It's like the entire concert hall goes into bullet time. The audience collectively holds their breath as the conductor starts to topple backwards like he was a tree who has just been chopped down!

And just when we thought he was going to go down for good, Burgos caught himself on the guard rail behind him. The audience let out a unified "oh!" and every single musician in the orchestra stood up and leaned forward like and tried to reach for him. It almost looked like they were in formation doing some kind of weird dive. Even people at the back of the orchestra tried to dive and rescue Burgos!

There was silence. Burgos still had his hand on the railing and was leaning on it pretty hard. He lowered his head. Then he waved the musicians to sit down.

His head lifted. It was slow, like watching Batman pick himself out of the rubble after getting beat down. But he wasn't done yet.

Burgos sat down on the stoop of the conductor's stand and conducted the rest of the piece while sitting. He guided the entire orchestra with his hands stretched right up high in the air so every musician could see him. He didn't let up. He wouldn't let up.

The standing ovation at the end was deafening. The orchestra cheered for him. There was thunder in the concert hall.

Burgos stood up and took a bow like a gentleman and walked off stage.

He finished that concert like a boss. Sadly, that was the last concert he ever did. He had been suffering from cancer and died three months later.