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Long story short: they're tearing down my grade school in 4 days. On to bigger and better, brighter and red-bricker things. The windows and the doors are gone. There's little left of it structurally. And, I want to be the first to say that I am 100% in support of a new school. But if those walls could talk, they'd tell stories of my first day, first grade, my first kiss; a shy girl with dimples who continually aspired to be the first to raise her hand with the right answer; a music room where, for show and tell, that shy girl would play piano. It was within these walls that my whole concept of childhood was built. Somewhere between the numbers and the phonics, I was learning how to stand in a line, wait my turn, follow the leader, be a leader, be chased by a boy, be a friend, listen to my elders, create stories, start and finish something, and make good grades. These days, the grade by which I am measured has changed and the stories I'm writing are a little more complicated. But, I wouldn't be the dreamer and the chaser and the wild-at-heart woman I am if it weren't for the most magical and formidable years of my life at Sterling Grade School.

I guess I was exercising the principle of coloring outside of the lines (or maybe it was just plain breaking the rules) today as I ignored the caution tape and hurdled the orange barrier that now surrounds the school. And it was worth the risk tenfold. Because I am one who believes that you, indeed, can go back again. And that times can stand still in your heart, if only for the hiccup of a second when you smell a smell or see the flashing of a frame in your head that takes you there. As I dodged the piles of broken glass and walked through a blanket of dust, I was transported to another time. And it was a little bit painful. Painful to think how distant the girl with the silly blog is from the girl that inhabited that building. I want that girl back frequently. Don't we all?

Which is why tearing a building of this kind down can cause such a stir in a community. But, I have to thing that the building itself doesn't actually hold anything tangible that we value. It holds the space that triggers those flashbacks to the days of childhoods past. The gateway to our youth, if you will. And that is a very valuable and precious thing. But, I, for one said my farewells to Sterling Grade School today. Upward and onward I say. But as for the memory of the girl that used to be, I will never EVER bid her farewell. And neither should you.