It just dawned on me tonight that tomorrow may be the very last time I get to watch my oldest son play volleyball.
He's been playing volleyball for 4 years. He is a senior and tomorrow is the final tournament for his club team. Tonight we had a conversation about the high school team. He said he wants to play but he doesn't know if he wants to play for the coach. This coach is very demanding. We know that and that isn't what is holding him back. What is holding him back is that he keeps telling my son he needs to lose 10 pounds. The varsity coach even told his club team coach. My son expressed tonight that he doesn't know if he wants to be judged upon his weight instead of his ability. He is an average to above average outside hitter. He plays the right side, which is a bit harder than playing the left side or middle for a right hander.
While we were talking I started to cry and I knew this upset him. Actually the tears are welling up now as I type. It's not that I care what his decision is about trying out. I'm cool with whatever he decides because it is his life. He just has to be satisified with his decision. He's got to not regret his decision in the future. What is hard is that I figured I had about 4 more years of good sports mom in me. But Brian will probably not play because of grades and some behavior issues he has going on.
Being a sports mom is a huge part of who I am. It's been who I am since my oldest son was 4. We've played baseball almost every season until this summer. We've played many years of fall and spring soccer. Being the sports mom on hot summer nights, cold fall days, and wet spring mornings is who I am. I feel it is one of the biggest parts of me being a mom. If I haven't always been the best mom to my kids, they've always known that I've always, ALWAYS tried to make their sporting events. I bet I can count on 2 hands how many I've missed. Some days I would run across town to see both of them play when they were both playing at the same time. On Saturday's I was a single sports mom whenever Don worked.
I realize that tomorrow may be it. It may be the last sporting event that Doug plays in as a child. Sports has been his rights of passage. Sports is who he is. Sports, and his love of them has helped him make decisions on his future. If I had to rename this boy, his name would be Espen. The name the letters ESPN sound out when said together.
As I tried to explain to him why I was crying and told him that I feel I'm losing a part of myself, and realize that tomorrow may be it, he said, "Mom take a lot of pictures." I guarantee I will do just that. The last tournament is one of those a that a mother dreams about. Both boys are at the same location. At the end, I want to make sure I get a picture of both of them together next to the net, with their arms around one another, like teammates and brothers should do with those volleyballs in their hands. I'd also love to see Brian set Doug some balls to capture the jump, the spike or kill, and the face that shows such gratification, dedication, and the love of the game on film.
He's been playing volleyball for 4 years. He is a senior and tomorrow is the final tournament for his club team. Tonight we had a conversation about the high school team. He said he wants to play but he doesn't know if he wants to play for the coach. This coach is very demanding. We know that and that isn't what is holding him back. What is holding him back is that he keeps telling my son he needs to lose 10 pounds. The varsity coach even told his club team coach. My son expressed tonight that he doesn't know if he wants to be judged upon his weight instead of his ability. He is an average to above average outside hitter. He plays the right side, which is a bit harder than playing the left side or middle for a right hander.
While we were talking I started to cry and I knew this upset him. Actually the tears are welling up now as I type. It's not that I care what his decision is about trying out. I'm cool with whatever he decides because it is his life. He just has to be satisified with his decision. He's got to not regret his decision in the future. What is hard is that I figured I had about 4 more years of good sports mom in me. But Brian will probably not play because of grades and some behavior issues he has going on.
Being a sports mom is a huge part of who I am. It's been who I am since my oldest son was 4. We've played baseball almost every season until this summer. We've played many years of fall and spring soccer. Being the sports mom on hot summer nights, cold fall days, and wet spring mornings is who I am. I feel it is one of the biggest parts of me being a mom. If I haven't always been the best mom to my kids, they've always known that I've always, ALWAYS tried to make their sporting events. I bet I can count on 2 hands how many I've missed. Some days I would run across town to see both of them play when they were both playing at the same time. On Saturday's I was a single sports mom whenever Don worked.
I realize that tomorrow may be it. It may be the last sporting event that Doug plays in as a child. Sports has been his rights of passage. Sports is who he is. Sports, and his love of them has helped him make decisions on his future. If I had to rename this boy, his name would be Espen. The name the letters ESPN sound out when said together.
As I tried to explain to him why I was crying and told him that I feel I'm losing a part of myself, and realize that tomorrow may be it, he said, "Mom take a lot of pictures." I guarantee I will do just that. The last tournament is one of those a that a mother dreams about. Both boys are at the same location. At the end, I want to make sure I get a picture of both of them together next to the net, with their arms around one another, like teammates and brothers should do with those volleyballs in their hands. I'd also love to see Brian set Doug some balls to capture the jump, the spike or kill, and the face that shows such gratification, dedication, and the love of the game on film.
If tomorrow happens to be the last day, I will always have these to help me remember.
1 comment:
Oh sweetie, it's so hard when they grow up! So hard to let go. You have every right to mourn the passing of this stage in his life. But there will be many more wonderful stages he's about to embark on! You'll have many, many more photo ops, just not the same ones. Hugs to you...and certainly enjoy the game.
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