Not just a jersey

As I washed and hung up my oldest daughter’s volleyball jersey and warmup jacket today for about what feels like the 150th time in the last few months, I was reminded that she’s nearing the end of the high school volleyball season. In the past, about this time of year, I’m kinda tired of always making sure the uniform is retrieved from the dirty clothes or sometimes the gym bag, washed up and hung to dry before she has to leave for a game. And some of the crazy weeks, that jersey barely got washed and was probably still damp when she ran out of the house with it.

Usually, this time of year, at the end of the volleyball season, I’m ready for her to turn in the uniform and take a break from washing up the same ol’ stuff. But this year is different! As hung up the jersey and warm up in her room to dry today, all of the sudden, I started to cry. I realized this is it! In a few weeks from now, she will never wear the #40 Bison volleyball jersey ever again. Then I turned and saw her team picture on the door and her standing proud, wearing this same uniform representing her high school. The tears continued to flow as I stared at her smiling face and thought “How did I not realize earlier that this would be her last volleyball picture?”

If anyone would have walked in on me, they would have thought I lost my mind, standing there bawling over a volleyball uniform. But what they don’t know, is that this beautiful child smiling at me in the picture didn’t even like volleyball when she was little. I forced her to try it and then signed her up every year for YMCA ball when she was young without her permission. She stuck it out and by Junior High at least knew how to play the game. In 7th grade, she still was reluctant to go out and wasn’t sure she liked it or would ever be good enough. I remember telling her that in Junior High, you go out for everything because you never know what you might enjoy and if you keep learning and getting better, you will love it and get good at it!

I’ll never forget the day she came home from a volleyball camp the summer before her 8th-grade year and declared that she “really liked volleyball!” Yes! My plan worked! From then on, she would practice at home, never complained about 6:00 am practices at the Junior High and asked to sign up for more camps so she could get better. She looked forward to high school volleyball and instantly embraced the sport and hasn’t looked back.

Now for the last four years of high school, she has dedicated thousands of hours to volleyball practices, camps, games and tournaments. She’s weathered the ups and downs, fought to get better, put in the extra time, and every year continued to improve, and I’ve been so blessed to see it all! I’ve watched this clumsy 10-year-old, who could barely serve underhand, grow into a mature, confident, talented player who absolutely loves the game! And I can’t believe it’s almost over! All those memories of all those years of her playing came flooding back as I graced the sleeve of her damp jersey and my heart broke as I pictured her wearing it for the last time, standing at the net or passing in the back row.

I know it’s just a jersey and just a “game”, but these will forever be the best days of her life and will hold so many memories for her. I sent her a text the day before encouraging her to keep trying her hardest and never to give up since Districts were the next week and she responded, “I know, I will! It makes me sad that it’s almost over!” So I know she is gonna hurt too when it ends, way more than me, so when it comes down to it, it’s not just a jersey or a number or just a game.

It’s been her life for almost 8 years and the chapter is ending, so I know she will wear the jersey and play the game with all her heart and forever be grateful for the memories!