College. For some, a time when they create a new identity. When people really "find themselves" as some would say it. New friends, no attachments, no memories, no baggage. Not yet, at least. Some might see it as a fresh start. Finally kick those habits you are hoping were just a high school phase. No more looking back, those days of staff and parents telling you when and where you can't be is over. You pick your when, you pick your where. Freedom at last.
Before I sprinted off to college someone told me, "Don't forget where you came from." I wondered about that. Wondered what kind of advice it was. It seemed odd compared to the rest of the millions upon endless congratulations. Because those goodbyes were full of future tense things. Things like destiny, and chances, opportunities, and possibilities. The door was opening to a whole new world. Like I was jumping onto Aladdin's magic carpet ride into the rest of my life. And maybe those things are all true. But that advice about not forgetting where I came from, well, it buzzed in my ear like an annoying housefly. Because there were passions that filled my heart that were about to get clogged with reality. Real world mud would soon cloud the simple things I found so fulfilling. And the temptation to forget is exactly what was awaiting me. To forget why.
TJ loves baseball. I got the privilege of watching him grow into his love for it. From the sidelines, I saw that little munchkin dive into the world of dugouts and strikeouts. Not so much a little munchkin now, he is walking through that open door that college brings. And all the opportunities and other tunities that await him are going to be more spectacular than I can dream up. But what I hope, what I really desire for him, is to not forget. Not to forget his munchkin like love for the game. Not to forget, but to remember why it is he does it all.
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