It goes way back. Back to my first memories of endings. Things like turning off the Christmas tree for the last time on New Years Day…following a map planner in reverse on the way home from Florida vacation…sitting on the porch the last evening of summer before another long year of school.
I always hated it when the party was over. For me, endings have always sucked in their own special way.
The closing of the Winter Olympics is particularly poignant to me for some reason. Okay, okay, I probably know why. Like they say, so many things in life can be traced back to your mother. And, since her childhood, my mother had been fascinated with Sonja Henie, figure skating, and the beauty of ice and snow. For someone who hated the cold, my mother could always see the wonder in it. For someone who was far from athletic, my mother loved the speed and power involved in figure skating. Its easy to see why I love watching it so much; I grew up on it, at least as a spectator. Not to say I didn’t wear my own skates for a while, but overall I was pretty graceless. (They were good for some preteen date nights at the local ice rink, though…)
But back to endings. My mother hated them, too. And she made sure everyone knew it. So I learned early to cling to the precarious good times and to dread their passing…for they may never come again. And that was really what it was all about for me, the questions that endings bring. For me it wasn’t so much about the fun being over for now, as it was about the question…will it ever be this good again? Will the Christmas tree ever be as pretty again as it is right now? Will my grandmother still be with us for next year’s Florida vacation? Will a summer ever be as long and fun and smell as sweet as this one did?
As an adult, I found out the answers, of course…so my questions were good ones. I’m glad I took the time to ask, for it gave me an appreciation for the value of those elusive magic moments in life.
And for me, that’s why I love the Olympics so much. Not only to enjoy the grace and speed and perfection that the athletes draw from their bodies in that most beautiful snow-capped backdrop. But also, to bear witness to such magic moments of life, the triumphs, even if those particular ones aren’t my own. To know the questions the Olympians from all over the world surely must be asking themselves… Will I make it to the next Olympics? Will my loved ones still be with me, then, as they are now? Will it ever be this good again?
So I’ll watch the Closing Ceremonies tonight, as I do every Olympics, and I’ll get that same sappy, age-old ache in my throat that I get with endings. But deep down, I’m glad that feeling comes, because it reminds me to measure my time and appreciate all the best moments.
stampzeni 