North Cackalacky.

This post is much delayed but I thought I should at least write a little bit about my weekend in North Carolina.

A true second home to me, North Carolina always brings me joy. Only, upon landing this time, the joy was balanced by a melancholy feeling hovering over the weekend. As excited as I was to see all of my old friends, the real purpose to be there was to honor the incredible life of Melissa Hayden. It wasn’t long after I landed that I started recounting memories of the great dancer and teacher and that continued throughout the weekend.

There is something so nice about really taking the time to celebrate the life of the person rather than dwell on the death and I felt this weekend accomplished that beautifully. We joked about how Melissa would have been happy to see us all together again, but in her true spirit would have had some sly remark to say about it. The 36 or so hours that Blaine and I were there brought back a flood of memories and some new realizations.

Walking around the campus of NCSA and not knowing any faces was a strange reminder that life goes on at school even when all of your friends are gone. I think part of me can’t believe that people are there going through the same struggles and using the same hang out spots that had been mine. As high school becomes more and more distant, the safety net I used to have sometimes feels weaker. There is something exciting and scary about that. I have never been a believer in the theory that “high school days are the best of your life” but there is a sort of innocent smile that comes to my face when I am around my friends from that period. Everywhere I turned there was a new old face popping up and countless stories to tell and discover which took its toll on all of us.

(Some rambunctious dormmates reunited.)

Most emotional was the tribute performance that took place Sunday afternoon. It consisted of speeches and performances from friends and students of Melissa’s and it really was a joyous performance in the true sense of the word. Watching Gillian and Marcelo out there dancing was especially heartwarming as Gillian was perhaps her most treasured student. One of my teachers described her dancing that day as “liquid gold,” which just about sums it up. Sometimes it takes leaving to really get to know someone. Whether it is just leaving the presence of each other or leaving this earth as in Melissa’s case. Sitting in the audience and listening to the speeches helped me learn glimmers of her life that I had little knowledge of. It helped paint a more detailed picture of a woman whose portrait was already finished in my mind.

The events sandwiching the memorial all seem like a blur. At times when I was walking around campus I forgot that I had ever left and it just seemed like an extension of my senior year. Everyone looked the same but we all have different lives now. Some people are still dancing; others are becoming art historians, schoolteachers or anything else imaginable. We congregated on campus and strolled around and with each step there seemed to come a new memory. Things were the same but hugely different; although the most exciting thing to some of my friends was the freedom to smoke cigarettes without fear of getting in trouble.

(Final dinner night at "Lucky 32," one of MANY places I was looking forward to eating at. Nowhere does food quite like the South.)

Sometimes it’s the little things that seem to make the most difference. All of my friends seem so much the same but each little event that has happened over the past three years has added to their character. Each day passing takes us all further away from our common ground. It was an incredible comfort to see that with each step we take away, we still seem so close together. I guess our common ground is larger than I thought. Wow, that felt like a “Jerry Springer Final Thought” there for a minute.