Howell High School

I wish I could say that I'm so caught up on blogging that this is a 2018 senior, but nope. Megan just graduated from Howell High School last weekend.


It's hard for me to be away during the school year, and not be at home when all of the siblings are growing up. Megan graduating, Kaylin getting confirmed, Tyler turning 16 and driving, another younger brother passing me up in height. Jay, the first grader, carrying around a notepad so he can practice cursive writing and math problems, not because he needs to, but just because he enjoys it. Somewhat little things, that wouldn't be important if I was there, but that seem so big when I miss out on them. It's bittersweet when the kids grow up, especially when I'm not there to see it all.


Which is part of the reason why I'm super excited that Megan's graduating and joining me and the bothers in the U.P. in the fall. After living with three brothers this past year, I'm really, really excited to have less hockey gear and ski equipment scattered around the living room. I'm excited to have another friend to hang out and adventure with, and maybe another person who'll cook meals every now and then? I'm excited to have more outfit options, since we'll be sharing a room again, the first time in a long time that it'll be the two of us.

A lot of my favorite childhood memories took place in the bedroom that the two of us shared. Endless nights of pillow talk, hashing out the troubles of elementary life. Fits of giggles when we were overtired and didn't want to sleep, with Dad hollering from the living room "if I hear one more peep out of there..." which was always said more than once. Saturday mornings when we'd wake up early but stay in our rooms until Mom got up, because we knew that once everyone was up and the day started, it would be all clean and no play. We'd spend hours playing Barbies in our pajamas, taking turns picking which ones we got to be and always fighting over who got to have the cuter dog. We'd get everything set up, naming our Barbies and covering the bedroom floor in houses made out of blankets, but by the time we got it all figured out, we'd only have a few minutes to actually play. Yet every Saturday, without fail, we'd start it all over again.


We had that bedroom for years, but as the number of girls in the family grew from 2 to 4, that room got pretty crowded. I vividly remember the day I came home from school to find all of our stuff in the living room, the bedroom completely empty, and Mom standing in the middle of it, trying to decide what color to paint the walls. We were trading rooms, she informed me, and it had to be at least halfway complete before Dad got home from work, so that he wouldn't try to stop us. I remember standing in the middle of the floor, trying to be okay with that was happening. I was ecstatic to be moving into the master bedroom, but at the same time, so many years worth of memories were running through my mind. It was weird to be that emotional, I remember thinking, but with the sudden surprise of it all, and the end of so many memories, I couldn't help it. Even now, years later, I'll sometimes wander into that room and just look around at the walls; the familiar face in the wood grains on the closet door, the peeled paint on the corner of the ceiling from the year we wanted to hang Christmas lights, and did so with duct tape. The years of life and happiness that we spent in that room still echo through it.

I'll miss making memories at home. But I'm ready to start making memories somewhere else. I'm excited to see what the shared college years will bring, and what adventures it will take us on. And I'm really, really excited, that you decided that you could share a room and a house with me for another few more years.

Congrats on graduation, and enjoy your summer of freedom!


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