How Did We Get Here

Tonight, my husband and I went up to the school house to watch a couple of basketball games and see the Miss Munroe winner be chosen. Zach was not playing ball tonight. The JV team had a night off. Zach left the house before we did. He was riding with his buddy Matt. He had on a nice button down shirt, school colors, red and black. Blue jeans, his boots and his Letterman jacket. His hair is "growing back in" from football season. He's one of the  many boys that shave their heads pretty close during season. The curls are just starting to form around his ears and neck again. What a handsome son I have, if I do say so myself. And, as I was told all night long after we got there. It was a big night, so there was more of a crowd than is normal. Lots of teachers and alumni, as well as kids and parents. Teachers from Zach's past and present, walking up to me in the bleachers, speaking and remarking what a sweet and handsome child I have.

And as I looked around, watching the games, and then the ceremony..I realized.  My land...time has just absolutely flown by. At some point during the night,  I watch Zach and a cutie classmate pass us by. Heading for the concession stand. Zach and Callie are waiting their turn in line, another buddy walks up..is janking with Zach..trying to give him a hug..and they are all laughing as Zach dodges Myles and his silliness. Then Zach leans in on the counter..and is talking. I cannot tear my eyes away from the scene before me. How grown they all suddenly look. All of a sudden, I recognize that guy. Zach is that cute guy in high school, one of the ones that everyone likes because he's so cute and so funny..and so nice. My kid is THAT kid. When did all that happen?

They find their way back to the end of the gym. With their buds. To finish watching the game. Everything is in real time for me now. The Miss Munroe contestants are being introduced. I love them all. They are all beautiful and talented girls. Although I do have a special young lady I am rooting a little bit harder for...to win.  She does not win..but she will. She is a very special girl. Her days ahead are bigger than most of us can imagine. Katy Jo is beautiful, inside and out.

The last of the basketball game begins again.  And I continue to watch the crowd. Watch the people, the children, and the parents. Most of whom I have known for a very long time. Zach has grown up in this wonderful school called Robert F. Munroe. He has attended from K5 until now, as a Sophomore. It's a small school. One class per grade. So, he has also grown up with the same, give or take a few, 24 kids all of his school life. They are like family. The whole school is like family. The small town, family concept works for Zachary. He has flourished as a child, a son, and a young man. By the time he graduates, he will have spent 13 years of his life with the same small group of children. Year in and year out. What wonderful memories they will all have. And the best part...they will all have the SAME memories. Because they have never been separated. It's almost like a Leave it to Beaver kind of life. What a wonderful way to grow up.

The game is over and we are ready to go. We worked all day, it's 9:45pm, and Mims and I are tired. I climb down from the bleachers. And as always, kids are coming from all different directions to greet me and give out hugs. I am not special. These children are, and they do that for all the parents. I have seen everyone now, but my child. I am looking for him so I can say good bye. There is a dance afterward and I thought he was going to stay. I look from one side to another..no Zach. Then, I spot him. At the end of the gym. Dancing. Silly dancing. What he calls the "white boy's gotta get his groove on" dancing. To Donna Summer's "Last Dance" that is playing out over the loud speakers. I stand there, frozen in time, watching him with his pals. Knowing, that this time too, is passing far too quickly. My mind is a flash drive, capturing memories for safe keeping.

I walk down to where he is..and I just stand there and watch him still. Laughing amongst his friends. He has decided not to stay for the dance. He too, says he is really tired. I listen to his buds banter back and forth, then Zach looks at me and asks for the keys. And there he is. Standing in the gym. With his Letterman jacket on, his curly hair, and his grown body, asking me for keys. So he can drive me and his Dad home. When the heck did all that happen? When did he become the almost grown up, driving the old folks home. I'm really just not sure. I try and remember how we got here. To this point. But my eyes are puddling with water, and it's all a blur. Another wonderful memory, blur.

copyright © 2011 Michelle Mount Mims