Thursday, May 28, 2015

Learning To Walk And Lighting The Flame

Whew! What a day!

Earlier this afternoon my feet touched down on the campus of Central Michigan University for the first time since 1992 when I walked across the stage of the Rose Arena to receive my Bachelor of Arts degree. I looked around at the once familiar sidewalks I walked first as a four-year-old child and later as a nineteen-year-old sophomore and an old familiar ache settled across my chest as a tidal wave of memories about knocked me over. 

Memories of a four-year-old little girl playing on the playground outside Washington Court while her daddy was in class...of becoming inseparable from a feller named Inchworm, a Kermit the Frog green plastic riding toy that I used to wear a groove in the sidewalks surrounding the family housing unit my family lived in at that time...

...of pretending the closet in the bedroom shared with my older sister was an elevator...of using cardboard boxes and laundry baskets as a makeshift garbage can in the tradition of Oscar the Grouch...of hearing my mom and dad whisper about the Dracula like character--slick black hair, liquid paper white face, black clothing and all--who seemingly had been hot on my dad's trail in between classes, sometimes even after classes...of watching Mom and Dad packing up the apartment to move back to the great white North with me pitching a hissy fit every step of the way...after all, our little apartment would be lonely and I didn't want to leave...

...of attending my first opening football game of the season with my roommate and new found friend fifteen years later, enjoying hot chocolate and noshing on fudge following our team's win...trips to the Malt Shop and the SBX on the regular...the UC (Student Union as it was called back in the day)...3 a.m. fire drills...Secret Santas...the Fall Thing and Genesis retreats followed by Chapter Camp and the Narnia Trails with InterVarsity...Western Weekend...midterms..."study sessions" that were more like trying to see how many spoons it would take to devour a tube of chocolate chip cookie dough (the world may still never know!)...papers...poetry...chapters...finals...graduation...packing up the apartment I shared with my mom (yes, my mom) while throwing a hissy fit once again the entire time..not that the apartment would be lonely...I was pretty sure we were past that...I simply did not want to leave!

Fast forward to Thursday, May 28, 2015 at 6:30 p.m. at Kelly/Shorts Stadium where the feet of Matthew and over 2000 of his fellow athletes also touched down on CMU's campus where my feet, my mother's feet, my father's feet and countless others also trod. From my seat in the bleachers, the joy on his face could not be contained, his smile beaming as he gave high fives to anyone and everyone who would accept and receive them. The ache from earlier slowly morphed into a comfortable sense of knowing. As a little girl, my first steps were taken in the courtyard of Washington Court. As a young adult the first steps I took into the world of adulthood and independence were taken between Calkins/Trout Hall(s) to my academic homes which were Anspach and Pearce Halls. Now tonight I watched my son take his own steps of adulthood on this same campus, preparing for the Special Olympics. My feelings of sadness were replaced rather quickly with those of pride. 

My family and I are at the moment chilling in our hotel room. The Olympians are all in their respective residing places, hopefully resting up for the weekend events. Matthew's events are on Saturday. He will do the softball throw..he will run his meters...in between all of this when we aren't scoping out the events planned for family and volunteers, I plan to give my family the dime tour of my old stomping grounds. Meanwhile the Olympic torch, lovingly deemed the Flame of Hope, has been lit. I have no doubt the flame will be kept alive, faithfully attended, lovingly stoked as not to let the flames die out. Over 2000 flames were lit as they walked the field of Kelly/Shorts stadium. Every week, every minute, every hour spent in sweat equity getting ready for this weekend kept those flames attended, stoked, shining brighter than anything I can ever recall seeing before. First steps...flames of hope!

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