“Ancora imparo” – Michelangelo

Words are escaping me – emotions are not.  Tears slowing started rolling down my cheeks twelve short hours ago, only slowing enough to have a fragmented sleep and to eat.  There’s really no reason to cry – which tells me it’s a joyful and grateful place that the emotions swelling up from.

This past weekend was a weekend filled with laughter, silliness, deep and thought-provoking conversation, apparition spotting and adventure.  My worlds collided again and two people from my life were introduced – to one another and to something so incredibly special to me.

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He came into my life when I didn’t really know who I was, or where I was headed.  I was in my early twenties – a free spirit connected to another. Our friendship evolved from college football, beer and shenanigans to lofty goals and personal growth.  He was there waiting at one of the most powerful and defining moments of my life – waiting with a strong hug and pride for what I had accomplished as I crossed the finish line of my first marathon.

We are rivals.  Our friendship didn’t make sense to those closest to us.  But it never mattered to us. 

As we got older, our lives took us to different places.  He married a beautiful woman who he had loved before – and who accepted him for who he was, is and would become.  Which is exactly what he deserves, and what I'd wish for him.  I moved to Austin – to continue on my journey.

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She came into my life shortly before I moved to Austin.  Slightly younger than I was when I met him.  She has and still does (I think) look up to me – refers to me as her mentor.  I feel honored that my life and the lessons I’ve learned along the way are of value to her.  But somehow in those years, she’s picked up wisdom along the way that I admire.  She provides comfort and cheerleading in ways I’m sure she’s not even aware of.

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I had the opportunity to introduce these two - who I admire and appreciate for who they are – and also, for who they allow (and encourage) me to be. An old friend.  A newer friend.  Both equally important to me.  Both having been a part of my life and journey.  Both teaching me lessons along the way.  Both sharing in memories that I’ll carry with me for my lifetime.  My heart was filled up in the time the three of us shared. 

Through the sounds of the French Quarter, I stopped to listen to the voice of my heart softly telling me to cherish these moments – they’ll soon pass.  With everything that was in me, I wanted to stall the night from ending.  Methodically, taking mental notes and pictures, knowing that I can’t stop time.  With one fierce hug, I said goodbye to my friend and got into a cab with the other.  Tears slowly started making their way down my cheeks. 

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It wasn’t the goodbye.  It was the gratitude for having people in my life who really, truly get me, accept me, for who I was, am and who I will become.  Who understand me.  Who want me to succeed at life, love and happiness as much as I want to.  It was the realization that life is short and there are a finite amount of moments like these.  It was the realization that true, authentic friends are scattered around the globe and there are more out there then there are in Austin.  It was the frustration that they all can’t be in one place, together, for me.  It was the appreciation that they’re not, but that doesn’t matter – because the distance or passage of time doesn’t seem to matter with friends like these.  It was the gratitude that I have for having friendships like theirs – and the awareness that not every person walking this earth will have the opportunity to feel what this kind of friendship feels like.  It was the realization that I’m deserving of this kind friendship – I’m deserving because it’s exactly what I offer. 

Lessons are presented each and every day.  People come into our lives for a reason.  I know this.  They arrive in perfect timing.  We vacillate between the teacher and the student with one another  - in the dance of life.  

“Ancora imparo” – Michelangelo

Thank you both (and others) for lovingly accepting me as the teacher and the student.  My heart and life are more full because of your sprit, energy and laughter.  Cahcah!  And Misa - thanks for letting me be your soul sister!  

Madness. Hail.

After my mom got married to George a lot of things in my world – for instance, when it was time to watch TV, we usually watched what I wanted to watch.  After we all moved-in together, suddenly his vote counted.  Unfortunately, for me that vote usually didn’t include “The Cosby Show”, “227”, “Growing Pains” OR “Who’s the Boss.”  What it almost ALWAYS included was Westerns, “Unsolved Mysteries” or sports. 

It was when my vote had been over-ruled that I began watching basketball one winter.  Me on the sofa and George in his chair, with my cat (who he hated) curled up at his feet – basketball on the television.  It was 1992 and The Fab Five was all I heard about.  I watched, quietly, not wholly understanding the game or why these five were such a big deal.  I asked questions.  And sometime along the way, decided to join George in cheering for the Michigan Wolverines and this “Fab Five” team…It was here this love for the Maize and Blue began… and what would drive me to Ann Arbor in the fall of 1997 to fall in love all over again.

 Sadly, that love of Michigan basketball took a backseat to my love of Michigan football until recently.  Because of the Fab Five, and the accepting of “gifts” from boosters – the basketball program was in the midst of a tournament ban during my entire time in Ann Arbor.  It seemed like it was taking forever to pull us out of that hole.  How do you hire a good coach or recruit great players when they know they can’t play in the tournament?  You can’t.  For what seems like foooorever.  My love faded.

Back in December, with a fellow Wolverine I cheered on an undefeated Michigan team.  I watched some incredible wins and some devastating losses this season.  This team was incredible – oftentimes inconsistent – completely young – but, whoa… when they were on, it seemed like they couldn’t be stopped.  I think we were all skeptical of their performance in the tournament… but with a tournament stop in Dallas, I jumped at the chance to go to see my Wolverines play.  I watched as Kansas worked us – with two minutes left, it seemed silly to be optimistic for a comeback – they were down by like 10 points and kept sinking 3s.  And then… seconds to spare, Trey Burke threw up what seemed like the craziest shot ever.  It hung for what seemed like an eternity…and swiiiish… OVERTIME.  Just reliving that moment in my head makes me smile.  I later read that with 2-minutes left of the clock, we had a 0.06% of winning that game.  I was part of the 0.06% of people who believed we might pull it off.

Now, I can continue babbling on about basketball – but that’s not really the reason I feel compelled to write.  It was through this time – through the Madness that is March Madness – that I grew more and more proud of this part of my life, this not-so-small part of who I am.  My Facebook feed was each and every one of my classmates, friends and fellow Wolverines showing their pride for our school.  Congratulatory text messages came from Buckeyes, Spartans and Brits.  It was Block M default pictures.  “Go Blue!” and “Hail” status’.  It was pictures of children, cousins, neices, nephews and pets wearing Maize and Blue.  It was links to story after story of what Burke was thinking in that moment.  It was each Wolverine and every person who loves us being incredibly proud of this team, our program and school. 

Something special happened back in the Fall of 1997 when I first walked onto the University of Michigan campus and moved into the dorms – I met some of my best friends (to this day) and became a part of an incredibly tight family of Wolverines.  A family that doesn’t care what your major was, where you lived, when you graduated OR what your name is – but who will see you on the street or in a crowd wearing Maize and Blue and knows that you’re part of the family too…and feel compelled to yell, “GO BLUE!”

So thank you, Fresh Five for this reminder that whether I’m at music festival in Philadelphia, visiting Portland or lost in this sea of Longhorns – that my Michigan family is every where.  Thank you for reminding me that I’m so incredibly proud and honored to be a Wolverine.  Then.  Now.  Always.  Hail.