So Paul's high school career did achieve its Hollywood denouement: his track team won the state title. Though Paul is by no means a star runner, he is a team captain, so he's soaking up the drama with great joy and vigor. Yes, a rainbow arched over the field; yes, wailing fire engines escorted the victorious school bus through town . . . and the dark day of last October's soccer loss has faded behind the glory of today.
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In college he does not plan to continue playing competitive sports; he'll be switching to dance. But since second grade he has taken them so seriously, in what has often been a painful way. He was the child bashing his head against the backstop when he struck out. He was the child weeping weeping weeping on the bench when the team lost.
Every game day I have asked myself: Will he cry? Or will he sing? And now it's all over--a burden lifted for both of us, undoubtedly, yet a loss too. He has cared so much.
2 comments:
2 Timothy 4:7
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.
Appropriate, yes?
It's a very difficult transition for both athlete and parent, fraught with "I wish I hads" and "Do you remember whens" for both, as the light shades into some sort of emotional twilight.
Hugs to you both.
It is difficult, but exciting too. The dance focus is a whole new horizon.
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