Last night my son gave me his four court side tickets to the Wizzards VS Bucks game. I couldn’t think of anyone more fun to take than my three grandchildren so we bundled up and Ubered to the Verizon Center. Before the game, the kids tried to educate me on their favorite players: Bradley Beal, John Wall, and Otto Porter were the names pronounced ever so carefully to ensure I would learn them and cheer for them, too.
Diehard Wizzard fans that they are, my grandchildren also admitted to liking one of the Milwaukee Bucks players, Jason Terry. They called out his name every chance they got to get his attention. At the end of the game Jason Terry came over to “high-five” the kids. He immediately zoomed to the top of their favorite player list when he gave them a head band and towel. The kids were delirious with these gifts, worn, sweaty and I might add, smelly . They hung on to them for their dear lives. There was no question that the kids placed a high value on these things.
I was well aware of how cool it was to capture the moment with these mementoes but I was also well aware that one day, their value would greatly diminish. Because that’s what happens as we grow and change. I wondered what would one day take the place of the revered sweaty headband from a favorite NBA star. Surely in my own life as a child I valued a favorite doll, until I outgrew her. Then my most valued thing was a Teen Queens album featuring “Eddie my Love”, (written about me and my high school boy friend, Eddie Lillis), and then that was replaced by my wedding band, a symbol of love that was to last me a lifetime. Sadly, even the wedding band lost its value one day and was replaced by a simple photo of my grandpa Esposito standing in front of the market he created, where I spent a good deal of my childhood.
I have written often of how many once valued treasures I have either lost or given away as they became less important, less valuable to me: my Santa collection, mementoes from my many international trips, a menu from The Chinese Laundry in Napa Valley, and my favorite-ever chandelier to name just a few.
As I glance around my new condo, there is truly no one object that I value so highly that I would be heartbroken if it were to break or all of a sudden be missing. What I value that cannot be broken or stolen, is those experiences and relationships that exist in my heart and soul: my faith and my family and friends, whom I treasure far beyond any one or combination of valuable things that have passed through my hands over the years. My time with my grandchildren has become my very top thing I value so taking them to the Wizzard game is one of those experiences that will remain in my heart as a favorite time forever.
For right now, the sweaty headband, has tremendous value. But one day it will be relegated to a junk drawer with other once revered objects, in favor of a photo of a new boyfriend, an acceptance letter into the college of my grandchild’s choice, or maybe even a photo of our time together at the Wizzards VS Bucks game.