Every year the seasons change, happens without fail. Its a promise from God . . . . . four seasons. Each year, most of us, find ourselves yearning for the next season. Each winter I long for the sand and warm breeze. During those scorchers of humidity that you could cut with a knife, I dream of a hot mug of hot chocolate if front of a crackling fire.
This year is no different. I've had this foretaste of pumpkin spice, smores around a campfire, warm spiced cider, crisp leaves scattered everywhere, snuggling under a warm cozy blanket, and the list could go on for days. When this time of year begins to emerge though it brings back wonderful memories of years past. As a teenager, my Friday nights were spent at the football field. Many of your memories are probably the same. Yours may be of the sound of football pads crashing into each other and the blow of a whistle, the dew on the field as a you cheered on your favorite team, or the anticipation of watching two rivals having it out. (while decked out in face paint and school colors) Mine was a bit different. I was raised in a family of music. So, as high school came and went music was a huge part of what I did.
Just a couple of weeks ago our family decided to attend a football game to watch my nephew in the band. Not any band, but the band that Bobby and I both grew up playing in. I didn't realize the emotion it would evoke in me. It was a normal Friday for us. I got off work around 5pm, and had to rush to pick up the kids. The kids stay at Bobby's childhood home on Fridays. As I traveled down the infamous Farmington road to Bobby's parents house it took me back. Countless days of speeding down this road anticipating the night of football and, more importantly, THE half-time show. In the opposing lane, I saw those same faces flashing past me - football players, cheerleaders, dancers, color guard, band students, faculty, parents, grandparents, student body etc. . . . The recollection of traveling in my beat-up ole grand prix speeding down Central School Road became so real. I'd stop off at Central-mini mart for a much needed gulp of caffeine, pull into the band hall parking lot on two wheels. . . . . it's a wonder I survived. We would rush to assemble our instruments, and head into the warm up room for a quick run through of the show music. If time permitted we would head out to the practice field and make a quick run through of the show. . . . it was an effort to perfect every single detail of our show. Then the much anticipated march to the football field. The drum cadence ringing through the stadium echoing each rimshot. I'll never forget the smells of freshly grilled "stadium" burgers, popcorn, the glow of the stadium lights . . . . I never really think I took it in like I should have. We would line up for our spirit line after blaring "The Star Spangled Banner" . The banner that the cheerleaders had thought out for weeks torn and ripped apart as the football players burst through the paper.
Flashback to reality. . . . . Bobby, mom, and I driving down Central School Road in our mini-van (a.k.a. swagger wagon) with our three kiddos in the back. The kids were oblivious to the memories of the past, nostalgia associated with this "place" as they called it. As we walked down the sidewalk Bobby and I reminisced of who's classroom that used to be, that's where mommy went to her first valentine dance, I graduated high school on this field, he was my high school driver's ed teacher . . . . . . it was a bit disappointing. They could have cared less. The idea that we were once energetic excited kids as they are didn't affect them one bit. I needed their feelings to be moved. I needed them to see our youth. . . . . . nothing . . . . absolutely NOTHING!!!!
The truth of the matter is, they will never know that side of their mommy and daddy. It was truly fun and exciting to have revisited it, if for only a split second. Wonderful memories of the past, and pure elation of the future for our children. Yet again, the power of the responsibility of being mommy and daddy to these three beautiful kids!!!! I pray that we can instill in them to savor each and every moment of their childhoods. A flash, and it's behind us.