In 2009, just after our marriage began, Anthony said he wanted to support the local team and buy season football tickets. He also wanted to tailgate. I absolutely love college football, but in Texas heat in the early fall, I had never considered why in the world I would possibly want to spend extra hours in the heat rather than watching the game in my air-conditioned living room.
However, he wanted to, and I joined in. We bought the food, set up the tent, and sweated. At first, it was just the two of us tailgating, or when the boys were with us, the four of us tailgating. The boys played in the creek behind our spot, and Jonathan fell in at least twice. Look at how little they were in our very first year!
As the years progressed, however, the tailgating crew grew. We met people from the neighboring sites. We invited people from our lives to join us. Those from an additional 5 groups/sites joined us. We even made open invitations to people passing by, and we made a point to welcome people who were from the opposing team. Our crew ran an average of 30-40 each game and sometimes closer to 60.
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This once-reluctant tailgater grew to love tailgating,
not because of the heat and cold,
not because of the football team or the game of football,
not because of the food and the cold drinks,
but only because of the people.
Our spot became hallowed ground for me.
Our tent became a place that taught me what I wanted to be—-what I was meant to be to others and to myself.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
This year marks the first year in 14 years that I am not going to be tailgating outside of the stadium.
The story is complicated and multi-faceted. And much too much to share here.
The tailgate trailer Anthony and I bought, along with tables, chairs, televisions, coolers, grills, and much more have been sold or given away. I will once again be watching football in the air conditioning at home this coming Saturday when it is 101 degrees outside.
Regardless that I will not be in that spot—-and under that tent—-I am carrying the figurative tent with me.
Have tent, will travel.
I am so thankful for the past 13 years—and for all of you who joined me under that white fabric.
I am so thankful for Anthony who exposed me to the secret of the tent.
These are some of the secrets of the tent I learned about myself:
- I need a chance to just sit. I never learned this growing up. My parents were always busy multi-tasking. I finally learned to set aside a whole day just to be Kim, to socialize, to eat and drink, and to just be.
- I love to be around people. As someone who heard most of her early adult life that I was impossible to be around and that people couldn’t stand me, what a joy and a surprise to discover I could talk to anyone. I could become friends with lots of people. I didn’t have to agree with their beliefs, but I could laugh and talk and share life stories.
- I would give my right arm—or left—for a whole lot of people. I loved big. I loved the people who were under that tent. Loving big means losing big when they disappear from your life. However, even that loss does not mean that I regret any of my moments.
- I want to live with my arms wide open. I have lost 3 tailgating family members in the past 10 months—Kerry, Anthony, and Jill. They were the life of the party. Each of them exposed me to life with arms wide open. They experienced every moment that life gave them—and all three were taken too soon. I want to be like them.
- I want to be a safe space for others. There is nothing more brutal than a full day of exposure in the Texas weather some days—brutally hot, frigidly cold, or torrentially rainy or windy. The tent provided some safety from the heat, the cold, and the rain. The tent sheltered us from the elements. The tent also was a space where life stories could be shared without judgment.
I want to be that same type of space where everyone knows they are welcome.
Where everyone is loved.
Where the feast is set out for others.
My new tent will be like the old tent.
- I will share with anyone in need.
- I will ask for help from others when the winds of life threaten to blow down my tent.
- My table and grill are always open.
- Appearances and team jersey colors and personal beliefs and lifestyle choices—-none of them matter.
- I will invite others to join my table. And add tables if I need to. And chairs.
- I will wave my flag high to let others know there is a place they can call “home.”
- I will love others like Kerry, Anthony, and Jill spent their lives doing.
- I will be a huge cheerleader, whooping and hollering for my people.
* * * * * * * * * *
So, tomorrow, I will sit in front of several screens, pull out some snacks, load up a cooler, and tailgate by myself.
What I now know is that I will continue to tailgate. But now my motto will be: “have tent, will travel.”
I can tailgate wherever I go.
I can pull out the figurative tent in my classroom, in the store, in my office at work.
I can be that tent to those who work beside me, to those I encounter, to my students, to my family and friends.
So, as the invitation has been wide open for 13 years,
And as I have posted in previous blog posts,
Join me under the tent. The grill is heated up, and the table is always full of food.
You have a standing invitation—and a seat ready for you!
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