It’s 9:10 at night.
The phone rings.
The battle is over.
10 years of battling.
10 years of uncertainty.
10 years of sleepless nights.
He is finally free from pain.
Free from needles, chemo, and nausea.
Rest in Peace dear Uncle.
We Love You.
Now the tears.
10 years worth of tears.
Earlier this spring my daughter took an interest in field hockey and after playing a few games, decided to try out for the school’s field hockey team. She made the team and now I am immersed in the world of travel games, watching(regardless of how hot, cold, or wet the weather) cheering, and trying to learn the rules of an unfamiliar game.
As I have observed this team of 12 year olds, and their games, I have come to learn some of life’s lessons. I am beginning a list which I know will grow with the duration of the season.
Here is what I have, so far…
1. Regardless of differences in opinions, we are one team with one goal and vision out on the field.
2. Girls can be just as competitive as boys.
3. When you make a mistake laugh, learn, and move forward. It’s not the end.
4. When you are in the field, you back up your teammates against the opponents.
5. Just when you think the ball is going in your direction, someone can take it away, so always be alert.
6. Regardless of the outcome, always be gracious.
Do any of these stand out for you?
I have often taught students that different things can elicit memories, which can be used for writing. This was very true for me this weekend. My friend sells Avon products and gave me a book to look through and as I thumbed through the pages, I smelled the different sample scents on various pages. Some were nice and some were not, but I didn’t have any significant reaction to any of them until I reached the page that displayed Sweet Honesty.
The moment I took a whiff of the scent, I was “transported” back to Middle School and memories flooded my mind! There were pleasant memories, unpleasant memories, close friends, teachers, trips, and vacations with my family. I wanted to linger on that scent for a while longer and relish those memories but it was time to leave.
I may decide to tear out that page from the catalog and keep it in my writer’s notebook.