What I remember from HS: Great Friends, Band, great friends in band, great teachers, a few bad ones, a few good ones who simply smelled bad, Drama club, suicidal friends, opportunities reached for and opportunities lost. Friends lost. Divorces, death, teenage pregnancies. Being chosen. Being looked over. Succeeding wildly. Failling just as miserably. Laughing until in hurts. Crying, until it hurts. Late nights. Meeting people so diverse from me. Liking those people. Sometimes, them liking me back. Trying new things. Not being instantly awesome at new things. Keep trying with some of those things and permanently shelving the others. Stressing about grades, college and the future. Tests. Lots of tests. Essays. Lots of essays. Movie nights with friends (sure wish they had midnight showings back then, I bet that would have given me even more awesome memories.) Natural disasters and world struggles. Finding the meaning in it all. Boys. Boys your friends liked, so you couldn’t. Boys who never looked your way. Boys who were your very best friends. A brother who was willing to defend you if needed. Trying to earn money without grades suffering. Experimenting. Experimenting with hair, clothes, boys, substances, diets, music, religion. Pushing boundaries and finding my own. And so much more. So, when I am anxious about my oldest son starting HS, these are some of the things I am thinking about and a whole lot more.