The Manager

I'm settling into my post Finals days.....my muscle memory is not developed for the knowing of what the days after a big, year long event goal look like after the passing of that event.  A part of me whispers "push on, trial hard, find points for Carbondale" and another part counters, in a little louder whisper, take time.  I'm taking some time......

Yesterday I went to the memorial for a 22 year old young man.  I can hardly type those words,  feeling the absolute grief of a mom who knows in her marrow this was not the way it was "supposed" to happen.  This young man grew up along side my boys: indoor park in the early single digit years of life that feel like the beginning of time and yet just yesterday.  Endless days at the Hoop, the basketball court beckoning the boys, teaching them about the game on one level though really, deep down, unaware, showing them the meaning of life.  Same song next verse on the football field, early double digit years, where this young man became the team manager.  Some might think it a glorified name for "water boy" yet looking back he was the ultimate "manager".  He, who taught these boys, those who grew up along side of him, so much about everything important.  The sports bringing them together, the learning sneaking up and into the boys' hearts.  This young man was special, as all of us moms know our boys are...but this one extra so.  He's mom shares: "When he was very young, he was diagnosed with Dyspraxia, a movement and sensory integration disorder that made everything he tried to do more difficult and time consuming. From moving his eyes along a line of print, to holding a pencil to write, to forming clear speech, he had to work very, very hard - often to exhaustion"  Maybe those boys on the football team never knew how hard this young man worked, yet they saw him: every day at practice, every game, every rally.  He was different.....they all knew that for sure, but the boys sorted through the different exterior and found underneath a kid just like them.  One with a wicked fun sense of humor, my youngest saying he was one of the funniest guys he ever knew.  A boy passionate about living life to its fullest and finding fun in everything he did. 

As I prepared to go to the memorial of this special young man, I thought of my words. What could I say to begin to share my gratitude to this boy for teaching mine about looking past the differences to see the real person?  What a gift!  What a gift that's been given to a group of boys at an early age.  I see compassion and understanding in both of my boys and am really thankful to the manager who helped nurture these qualities in each of them.  It's the fruit of a life well lived, the sharing of a gift of this magnitude.  Fingerprints that last a lifetime in those lives the manager touched.  As I looked at the group of men who formed the high school football team just a few years back, hugging the manager's mom and sharing in her deep grief, I was so proud of who the manager helped them become.  I hugged his mom too....told her those words of deep thanks for the gift that was given through the living of her boy's life.  He changed a group of boys and in so doing he changed the world!  May that knowledge be balm to the loss and missing and the knowing that this is not supposed to be......I know we will all miss the manger.

As with the passing of each of my days, I dig a little deeper to make sure I....

SEIZE THE DAY!