Opinion: Seniors mark their “lasts” in the final stretch of high school

Submitted photo by Mr. Greg Pulles
Senior soccer players celebrate their final home game of the season. Submitted photo by Mr. Greg Pulles.

I think that for most of my life, I have convinced myself that I am never going to be a senior in high school. I am never going to have endure the lasts.

Yet, here I am. And, it’s finally sinking in that this is it.

The class of 2014 attended their last football game on a Tuesday evening. Covered in snow and sporting USA themed apparel, the fan section watched the Lions fall in the first section game against the Breck School. It was just an end of another season for the underclassmen, but for the seniors it was the very last time standing in the fan section as a student.

The soccer players have kicked their last shot, the tennis players have played their last rally, and the volleyball players have made their last kill. The seniors have said goodbye to the people they’ve been playing with for years.

It’s not easy looking into the eyes of the people you’ve called your team and saying goodbye. The painful part is that it’s not saying goodbye to another season and waiting for the next. It’s saying goodbye to every single season you’ve spent with your team. It’s the end, there’s no next season to look forward to.

And, I’m not trying to be bitter, I’m just trying to put things into perspective.

This year, I will pose for pictures at my final prom. And, at that prom, I will dance with people I have made a million memories with.

This year, I will eat my last school lunch. Saying goodbye to Santa Fe Rice Bowl may be the most emotional goodbye I will have to make.

This year, I will graduate with the people I have grown up with – the people that accidentally sat on me in fifth grade and broke my glasses, the people that I would spend football games with dancing by the tennis courts in eighth grade, and the people that I huddle around the atrium fireplace with as seniors. I love these people, and these memories, and the school that has fostered it all.

Some of these people I will never see again or hear about. And, one day, I’ll most likely forget about the people I knew and I’ll barely remember the memories until I find a picture that makes me think of one.

This year, I will pack up 18 years of my life into a box and hug my parents goodbye.

This year, I will close my locker and walk out the doors of Providence for the very last time.

*Tears were shed in the writing of this article*