High school was never really my thing; in fact, for the first three years, all I could think about was leaving. I was tired of people, the hierarchy, and all the drama. My senior year, things started to turn around, and I genuinely enjoyed my year. Last May rolled around and I packed up my locker, and said goodbye. I hadn't been back for about a year until I came back when I was on a break to see my younger cousin play volleyball.
Something strange happened when I parked in the lot, walked the familiar sidewalk to the front door, and walked in the front doors, and I missed it.
It wasn't something I expected to experience: maybe a little reminiscing, but in reality, I missed it. Not the high school drama, but the beautiful experiences I'd had there. It felt like I had come home. I sat in the gym bleachers where I had sat just last year with my mom, nervously waiting to perform the National Anthem at the basketball games. I walked past my Pappy's jersey that still hangs in the hall, my way to connect with him years after It was really a weekend of reminiscing on my four years spent there. Earlier on in the weekend, I got to go to the tournament the baseball coach has in honor of my grandfather (the reason I came home before finals), and had the honor of singing the Anthem for the game. Like the year before I stood in the box, stared out across the field towards Old Glory moving in the wind, and sang. It was like before. And I missed it.
I sat in the gym bleachers and cheered on my cousin; the same place I had last year except I wasn't in my school uniform, but it felt right being back in the gym, right cheering on the team, because I truly realized the truth behind the words "Crusher forever." I realized that's why all of the alumni come back to support the school in athletics or academics through scholarships. I didn't really understand it before.
As the time creates distance, the bad times begin to fade away, for which I am grateful. Now, with fresher eyes, I can look to all the good times and smile. The lunches spent with my best friends, the Friday nights under the stadium lights in our awful band uniforms, the brief time I spent learning how to play softball, the final period of every year in high school spent in the choir room, the concerts, being a part of the best student section in the area, travelling across the state to cheer on our athletes, the Government classes spent talking, the Literature course where I learned I loved analyzing Literature, the senior year study hall that we never actually studied in, the days where my friends would come into school overjoyed that they had made it into the school they wanted, the senior prom that I went with my best guy friend since third grade to, the senior picnic, the grad parties, the awards ceremony, the Honors Society festivities, performing, graduating, the living, the loving all came back to me.
And I smiled.
I realized how truly special of a place it was, and I was grateful. I missed what I thought was unmissable. I cherished it all for the first time. I promised myself I would go back more, because just like the Alma Mater says,
"Others fade from my sight.
The years are passing by,
but pal of mine, dear Catholic High School,
I'll never forget you."
- Bishop McCort Catholic High School, Alma Mater
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