Summer. The word floats through the halls of the high school with a sacred fervor. Every year, I do the exact same thing. Towards the end of the semester, I get so stoked thinking about summer, and how I’ll be able to relax and chill, with no homework or school or drama. And every year, at the beginning of summer, I remember how stupid I was thinking that I’d have ANY free time whatsoever! What time I gained by not doing homework is time I lost with coaching little girl softball teams, EFY (Especially For Youth), working at my dad’s office as a receptionist, attempting to organize my room that without a doubt looks like a tornado blew through the area, and training for volleyball at ERAU this fall. So, my plans to scrapbook the past two years, watch a few good movies with my little sibs, and read my favorite books are put on hold for a while. That’s okay with me. I love being active, so I can’t complain. Well, except the activities that involve cleaning. I can complain about those!
I’ve had an absolutely action packed senior year! What started with a great volleyball season ended with a great, state-winning softball season, and everything in between makes the year all the better. I’m still on a high from softball. We’d never had an especially good season before this year, but having eight seniors who’d had enough and a new coach with high expectations, we made a goal to win state. I’ll admit it was a high goal, seeing as Blue Ridge softball didn’t have a banner for winning CONFERENCE let alone STATE, but it was a goal that we worked hard for and we knew we could accomplish. We’d done it before in Little League, and it was our turn again. It was a Cinderella story for our team. We ended up winning conference, the FIRST time in the history of our school, and then went on a couple weeks ago to defeat Winslow in the championship game, 7-3, for the first ever state banner in Blue Ridge softball history. Go Jackets! (See? I told you I was still on a high!) 😉 
Even my dad, who in February had a massive stroke in his brain, was healthy enough to go and cheer me on. Many people die from the kind of stroke my dad went through. I now see where I get my stubborn, I-will-never-quit nature. It was from my wonderful dad, who never gave up, who would not accept that he was weakened at all, who refused to actually lean on his walker like he was supposed to. HE CARRIED IT. Even on the pavement. This was very much to the disapproval of my mom, who scolded him like he was one of her kids. Right away, he’d put it down like a child who’d gotten caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. (Well, at least until she turned around. Then he’d carry it again!) Through the dirt and gravel, to my softball tournaments he would go without failure, even though he was weak to the point of collapsing. Sometimes he would have to sit in the car because his nausea was so miserable, but he still went. He’s a trooper! I’m so happy that he was healthy enough to watch his former team, who he’d coached since we were nine, win the state championship for him. There wasn’t a dry eye in the whole stadium. He is such an inspiration to me, as well as the rest of my team. He is doing well, and he even goes to work part time. What a champ.
So here I am, anxious for the new action-packed chapter of my life to begin, thankfully with my dad right beside me to watch and teach life lessons along the way.
“He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.”‘
-Clarence Budington Kelland
