The Things That Remain

It's snowing! Just sweet and soft flurries to start the day. I slept for 10 hours last night. I cannot explain my exhaustion, or perhaps I can and don't want to. Anyway, the cats are cozy, the carols are ringing and I'm sitting here writing and singing.

When I left off yesterday, I was heading to my middle school for Lily's basketball game. The Bulls versus the Whippets now better known as the Junior Greyhounds. I asked Ted to join me and he said yes. Just about gave me a heart attack, but then he started asking annoying questions in an annoyed tone like how long will it be and where is it and well, you get the idea. One step forward, another step back. Nevertheless, I think he enjoyed it. I did.  His sister sure appreciated it.

As we approached, I saw myself on the very last time I set foot in this school. Spring 1983, 8th grade graduation. I'm flanked by Megan and Jenny. We have on matching dresses. They're different shades of purple, but the exact same style: drop-waisted mini numbers. One of my parents took a picture of us outside before the ceremony. They didn't know if they got a good one before the days of digital photography, but they did. It captured us then, there.

Before the game started I left Ted in the gym and took a little tour of the school. It hasn't changed, but then there is only so much you can do with a landlocked circular building. I stood in the center of the pit. It's sort of the heart of the school. It was filled with tables, but that's not how I remember it. I remember when it was transformed into a dance floor several much-anticipated Friday nights a year. I could almost see myself dancing to Stairway to Heaven. It was a long song so it was important to dance it with your number one crush, or the guy you were going steady with or wanted to date next. We were serial daters back then. A deep romance could be derailed by an innocent game of spin the bottle, a three way call, an intercepted note. 

While I was watching the game, I kept having flashbacks. I could see us lined up for square dancing. We all proclaimed to hate that unit, but secretly we loved it because it involved bodily contact. All those allemandes and promenades. At one point, I convinced myself that the scorekeeper was my old gym teacher, Mrs. McDonald. Then I realized she'd be 75 now and this woman was my age. Time was playing tricks on my mind, going back and forth, standing still.

I texted Jenny a picture and told her I felt like busting into a sideline cheer:

We are the mighty mighty mighty whippets

We ain't bad cuz' we know we're good

We're gonna walk on you like we walk on wood!

That's right!

If I remember correctly, she came up with that one and although we never understood how one walks on wood, we cheered it loud and proud from the sidelines in our Shorewood sweaters. 

Lily had a good game. She had lots of playing time and played more aggressive defense. Coach called her out for her offense too. He pointed out that it may be the last game, but she finally took a shot.

I wonder what she'll remember about this time in her life. These people and places.

Coach was surprised to see Teddy towering over him after only three years. Three years is a lifetime when you're 16. Everything changes so often and quickly when you're a teenager, but there are always things that remain.