Saturday, February 16, 2013

The Yearbook

We have been organizing here at home, and Chris had moved around our book shelves. For the fun of it I took my high school year books off the shelf, brought them upstairs to look over and walk down memory lane. It has been interesting, eye and mind opening travel through time. I looked back and got to thinking about what life was like 18 years ago when I was graduating high school. Looking back only to look ahead.

My sister is seven years older than me, so by the time she was leaving home I was still only 11 or 12. What I remember of my sister when I was little and she was in high school is that she was always busy, she either seemed to work or be with friends. On the weekends she would sleep forever in the morning, I just wanted to her to get up. I remember always asking my mom if Tricia was going to get up soon. I liked having her around. I also recall she had the best hair, so perfect and I thought (well still do) she is absolutely beautiful. I always wished I could be as pretty as her. Seemed like boys really liked her and she had a date, often. But she really didn't like high school at all. She wasn't involved in extra curricular activities, like cheer leading however she was in the band for much of high school. I kinda think her goal was to just make it through and get out to live life.

My brother is two years older than me, so we were in high school together for exactly one year before he went off to college. My brother was good at school. He could absorb any concept and retain it with little thought, didn't really need to do homework and was involved in extra curricular activities and was part of the most awesome drum line. He was kind and generous, and he was liked a lot by pretty much everyone. Teachers loved him. I was lucky enough his senior year to ride to school and walk in with him, he wasn't afraid to be seen with his little sister. We would walk in past the cafeteria over the cat walk and then we went our separate ways, not seeing either again until band or later in the day. He liked school, or at least seemed to as it was so darn easy for him.

Then there was me. I didn't like school, I didn't hate school. And after looking through my year books I realized something, I tried to hide at school. My favorite parts of school were my friends and band. I avoided eye contact with most teachers and always hoped that I would not be called on. My first year of high school I was still that chubby yucky girl that I prefer not to remember. I didn't like myself very much but felt better about myself by my junior year. I was 'Tony's' sister, that is what I remember being, and I always thought people wondered how that was possible. I used to look at my year books and remember all the icky feelings that came with high school, feeling inferior to those who had better clothes, hair, were much prettier, and of course smarter.

I frankly hated those memories, until this time. I think Facebook probably had a bit to do with that. I follow the lives of many that I went to school with. High school is a terrible time of life, trying to find who you are, thinking you are better than others, or less than others. You think you are smart and old and wise. That is far from the truth, 18 years since high school graduation and maybe I am not famous or rich, or even living the fabulous life that I had dreamed but I would guess there are many others that feel the same way. We all do the best we can with what we have.

Remember when I said I hated being that chubby girl in high school, today I would give just about anything to have the chubby body back. When I hear myself say, "I wish I knew then what I know now," I realize I am turning into my parents. To anyone who ever thought or thinks high school is the best time of your life, you will be wrong. Though maybe it was fun and free trust me there are more things ahead than you can ever imagine, some good, some bad but each one of them will be what makes your life. When you can appreciate that, then you can say 'this is the best time of my life'.

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