A Time for Change

I enter the bowling alley and am shrouded by darkness.

This wasn't the plan.

I was supposed to go straight from co-op to the bowling alley and see all of my friends and teammates waiting to take that first run down the lane.

Of course the power has to go out on the last day of scoring.

Jachin's guitar strums an unfamiliar tune, Leah emerges and gives me a half-hearted "hello" and my heart screams.

My plans are ruined.

We decide to wait it out. No one knows how long it will be - 15 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour, maybe more.

This Friday is more important to me than just the last day of earning points. We've had plenty of those before. It's even more important than just winning a trophy. This is the last day of competitive bowling that my friends and I will experience together.

About six years ago, my friends, David and Jeff, and I signed up together for a junior bowling league and came up with the name Pin Crushers. Our first season began with low averages, but with practice and a competitive spirit throughout the years, we rose through the ranks and took home multiple first-place trophies. Although we've added new members when needed, the three original friends remained the foundation of the Pin Crushers.

This year, Jeff is graduating and going to college. Will Fridays ever be the same?

As I ponder what will happen to our team's friendship as we grow older, I hear the news that the lights are back on. I gather my stuff and head into the building.

The smells of grease, dirt and cigarette smoke attack me as I walk in, but these are scents I've come to know and love. I find my lane and start to put on my bowling shoes. Taking a look around, I absorb everything that comes into my line of sight - the dimly lit pins, the odd carpet, the cheap, salmon-colored tile, the scoring computers and the fuzzy mural of famous 18th-century American leaders. All have been memorable furnishings to me over the years.

David isn't here yet. I look on the scoring paper to see that he has pre-bowled. Leah walks over with her ever-cheerful smile and greets me with a hug.

After a while, we see Jeff and family walk toward our lane. A new face greets me. Or, is it a new face? Jeff without glasses is like a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich without the bread. I'm surprised by the look but also a little sad. I guess things really can't stay the same forever.

I suppose a part of growing up is sometimes letting go of things you once held dear. As I'm sitting in the stuffy alley, it suddenly hits me - an old trail has ended and new pathways have yet to be explored. I smile as I focus on the paths in front of me.

I don't know what the future holds as far as careers and friendships go, but that Friday, as I walked out into the world again, I somehow knew that my plans were going to change for the better.

Sunshine is a beautiful thing.