When Deb and I decided to move to Chelmsford ten years ago, we drove around town to get a lay of the land. I remember driving by the high school athletic field complex, seeing it full of kids and saying to Debbie, "One day, Caroline and Danny will be out there." In my mind, I could picture our four and two year old, running around in their uniforms as teenagers. They'd be a part of the community and a part of the school. They would be surrounded by their friends and they'd be happy. It was an idyllic image. I tend to have these romantic notions about the future, and most definitely the past. It's like I have a filter that keeps pesky reality from clouding my view. I can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse.
It's ten years later and reality hit, and it hit hard. Caroline is entering her freshman year of high school and if you haven't seen her lately imagine a pretty blond woman. Her passion is field hockey and today was the first day of tryouts. Gone are the days of "everybody makes the team and everybody wins." I knew that going into it, but when I pulled up to the high school track to drop her off for the first of two tryout sessions (two more tomorrow and more on Saturday), I couldn't believe how many girls were standing there...trying to take a roster spot away from my Caroline.
I couldn't help myself and, much to Caroline's horror I am sure, I stayed in the parking lot and watched them. The coach (who is this woman and boy does she intimidate me) began by having the girls warm up. (awe, look at all these girls we've known for so long; they're so grown up now). Coach had them break into groups (oh yeah! She's with someone she knows!) and they began running....and running...and running (What did that mom over there just say - anybody who finishes over 8 minutes automatically gets cut?...C'mon, Caroline run past your friend - she'll still like you).
Then it started: They began dropping like flies. One girl passed out (she finished the 2.5 hour practice anyway) and several stopped to visit the metal trash barrel to spew forth their stomach contents which, judging by the colors, included various flavors of Gatorade. Friends rubbed friends backs, others shouted encouragement to those still running. They were united - against adversity or the coach, I couldn't tell. But the thought of Caroline watching all of that, never mind going through all that, was too much. Yes, I coddle her. But I also know that she is strong and there was nothing I could do for her; so I left. This reality was too much for me.
When I returned at the end of the session they were all running (still) around the very field that I drove by with Debbie ten years ago. Her shirt was soaked with sweat, her cheeks were bright red, and the expression on her face was pained...but she was still running. That image was quite the contrast from the one I had in my head ten years ago.
Moral of the story: dreams are often tempered by reality, but they can still come true.
1 comment:
Scott,
I read ya, buddy. Our children passing through the various phases of their lives is sometimes more difficult on us.
You will be ok.
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