AdvanceBlog

In high school, my friends and I spent numerous hours, days and weeks being silly, having fun and engaging in other adolescent activities.  Then it came to a halt.  A few weeks prior to graduation, more specifically – when the school newspaper requested a list of the colleges that the seniors were going to attend.  It was at that moment, I realized that our time was coming to an end.

Jason, who was the genius of our group, had already been accepted and was eagerly planning on attending Morehouse in Atlanta.

John, the free-spirited charmer of the group, had secured employment and was moving to Atlanta immediately following graduation.

Chris, the extrovert of the group, was also going to Atlanta to attend Morris Brown College.

In some ways, I suppose that each of my friends were indeed an extension of some part of my personality.  We shared a bond and a kinship beyond measure even adopting our own moniker, which is too humorous to share beyond the initials, ATM.

But for all of our camaraderie, there existed inside me a drive, a willingness and nearly a compulsion to do something different.  I choose to go to Hampton - a place I had never visited, a school of which I couldn’t identify the school colors, a place that personified the unknown.

Well, as our spring antics and clowning moments began to give way to June – things weren’t so funny anymore.  John received an extraordinary gift that unleashed an intense jealousy in Chris, one that tore apart our conviviality.  But moreover it brought to the forefront that our comfort zone of fraternity would have to be broken in order for each of us to grow as young men.

That bond, those moments, those dear good times are gone forever.  That doesn’t diminish their value nor does it preclude the end of our friendship.  What it does it teach a two-sided lesson:

1)  Live in each moment, enjoying it fully

2)  Understand that to enjoy the next moment, this one has to end

Every year that I taught kindergarten, I cried on the last day of school.  For the life of me, I just wasn’t cool enough to accept that when those little backpacks galloped out the door, they would never return.  Did I teach them enough?  How much would they forget over the summer?  Would they excel in first grade?  Those thoughts and many others flooded my emotions and I couldn’t hold it back.  Those last hugs, little five year old hands patting me on the back and colorful stick-figure pictures with backwards letters in my name – all of it was over.  My future wife gave up attempting to console me for the following week.

But you know what?

That next fall, the next group of smiling faces brought an unbridled joy.  Every new school year was the best year ever.  Every fall my spirits were rekindled and my happiness restored.  My wife-to-be grew bored of my incessant stories about each of my kids, she felt as if she knew them personally.

So now, at this moment in life where I’ve embarked on a new journey riding the waves of faith.  I think back at all those other good-bye moments and realize – my best times, my best class, my most heartfelt happiness is ahead of me.  And because of that – I sail on.