Where Were You
May 8th, 2013 § Leave a Comment
Our kids are swimmers. They are, all three on a community swim team. This means, all summer long, every Saturday we are on the pool deck from 8AM til at least 1PM. If you count prep and clean-up, we go 6 til 2. Every Saturday. What is more surprising than that my life’s path has led me onto a pool deck all summer long is that I love it. Seriously. Love it. Watching my kids get up on the blocks, look around for me and my wife, to see them apprehensively excited, and when they spot you to see their expression shift – imbue with a touch of confidence … there’s nothing like it. And when they dive in … the cheering, the willing them to the wall. And then they surprise you: their strength, their competitive drive, their skill. If you’ve never seen a five year old breast stroke, let me tell you, it’s something to behold. So often I’ve stood on those pool decks in speechless wonder.
At these meets there was this one dad. He’d show up right toward the end of the meet in his full Tour de France get up. Rushing onto the crowded pool deck, pushing his $10,000 dollar bicycle. Every time I saw him, I had the same thought; it was neither judgment nor envy. “Dude, where were you? You missed it. The best part of your day. The best part of your life and you missed it.” I felt sorry for him. Really did.