…. and sometimes the worst of times.  And now it’s over.  Zach had his athletic awards at the high school last night.  Though he has always been homeschooled he has played at the local high school for the past three years.  He has played ball SOMEplace or another for as long as we can remember. In fact it’s hard to remember a time his life didn’t revolve around the sport. 

Zach began playing ball in early elementary school.  In one of those first games he was so overwhelmed by the noise and motion that the one time he did get the ball he ran down the court – the wrong direction. He quickly got the hang of it though and before long he was eating and drinking and breathing basketball.  I am pretty sure that when he went to bed at night he dreamed about it too. He memorized all the moves, all the stats, all the players.  And the shoes.  The shoes would take a post all it’s own!

Basketball filled our days and nights for so many years. We had our worst tangles over practice versus homework. We had some of our best times hanging on the edge of our seats through the last minutes of a close game.  He made some terrible mistakes, some incredibly masterful shots, and also what his coach called "the best play he ever saw in high school basketball". 

As we entered the high school years and the debate over public school sports, coupled with the difficulty of juggling school work with the intense practice schedules there were times we prayed for this whole thing to be done.  And now it is.  And now, I cry.  All the emotion pent up for a decade now.  All that defined this child.  All of that came to head last night watching the powerpoint his coach’s wife put together for the senior boys. 

I think about the kids we have come to know.  Kids I really didn’t WANT to know but ended up caring about a great deal.  Like the sweet boy from the group home who has been bounced around 4 different homes his senior year as he struggles to make a place for himself as a new legal adult.  About the girls from the girls’ team who supported them, who always kept up on me during Allen’s deployment, and who send me emails of congratulations about the new baby.  About the boy who told Zach how lucky he was to have his dad in the stands no matter how they were getting along that night.  And he should know.  His father died several years ago and never saw a single game.  We will miss you.

We will miss his young sincere Christian coach who set set the bar high for these young men.  He had strict policy against profanity and drinking. He modelled same with his creative Southern (always G rated) expletives. ; )  He supported us as parents and ran a tight ship with the boys helping them understand that this was not just about scorekeeping.  It was about being a team.  A team with integrity. We can only hope these boys remember that critical lesson as they move on.

It’s been a wild ride from his sorely uncoordinated dribbling as a gawky little boy to his beautiful plays as a teen.  He went from stumbling down the court to being a third year letterman.  As this chapter in your life closes my love, I think of the words in the Green Day song played in your senior video last night:

So take the photographs
and still frames in your mind.

Hang it on a shelf
In good health and good time.

I hope you had the time of your life.