It’s sad to look back on my 24 years of life and think about how much has changed. Yes, I know change is the biggest part of life, but I really hate it sometimes. I’m one of those people who holds memories and happy times close to my heart. I’m also one of those people who love-hate when things change. At times, it feels like progress and moving forward while other times it feels like a punch in the chest.
Today is one of those days where it feels like a punch in the chest.
Hearing about the loss of a crew member from “the ISMA days” (as my family refers to the time period) has me feeling sad. Mickey was on the crew of the Miller #4 supermodified that my dad drove in the 90s. I was pretty young for those days, but I still have the fondest memories and images of the traveling, racing and people during that time. Still to this day, it is one of my favorite times of racing that my family got to be a part of, which brings me back to change. It sucks.
I’ve been going through old ISMA pictures today, looking at everyone in them, comparing them to the people I see in racing today. Some are the same, some are different, some are new and some are my family. These pictures are bringing me so many flashbacks of my childhood, both at home and at the races.
I miss the way things used to be, especially with my family. For every holiday and every birthday, my brothers and I would see our entire family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, great-grandparents. It makes my heart ache to look back at family pictures and realize how much has changed, how it will never be the same. I miss my family and the closeness and calmness that I used to feel when I would go home.
This year has honestly sucked. So much has changed and if I wasn’t living in Indianapolis, I probably would have gone crazy by now. My brothers and I lost our dog, Buddy, after 14 years of him being a part of our family. We lost the house that we grew up in all while our family was splitting up. I miss going back to my home town and being able to drive straight to my house. I lived there for 17 years and it’s suddenly not mine anymore. It hurts to be so close with your family, to spend every weekend traveling with them, only to find out it’s not going to happen anymore.
As time goes on, I’ve realized that just because you want things to stay a certain way, doesn’t mean they will. You can have as much hope as you want, but things will still change whether you like it or not. It’s sad, but it’s a part of growing up and it’s a part of life. You have the choice to dwell and let it destroy you, or you have the choice to be strong, remember the good times, and move forward.