Monday, January 3, 2011

Not to the swift

Me and Him. June 2008

College for him has been rough.
Like a race that everyone said he had to run.
They said it was really important.
So he agreed to run.

But he only knew some of the rules.
And even the rules he knew, he didn't understand.
But he ran.
And, inevitably, he fell.
Because he still didn't know the rules.

He ran again.
And, again, he fell.
Because the rules still didn't make sense.
But all the coaches kept saying it was really important to run this race.
So off he ran.
Just to fall.
Again.


So instead of finishing that lap, he stumbled off to the bleachers to have himself a good think.
He thought about why he was running.
He thought about whether or not it really was as important as they all said it was.
He thought about the rules
The mental ones, and the social ones, and the emotional ones, and the physical ones.
The ones he kept breaking,
The ones that kept him falling.
And he thought and he thought and he thought.


And then he prayed.


And then he ran again.
And the rules were making more sense.
And he ran because HE knew it was an important race.
And he may have tripped a time or two more, but he was done falling.


And now he's got one more lap.
And he knows the track.
And he knows the rules.
And he knows his Coach.
And he knows his two greatest fans.
And he runs for them.
And for himself.


And in April,
He'll break that final ribbon.
And the victory will be sweet.
For all of us.


And know what?
He's signing up for the next race.
And me and her are going to watch him run
And cheer for him till our lungs break.