The Friday Night Lights Have Dimmed

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Just got home from Boo Boo’s last high school football game…I’m sad. The little sting in my heart isn’t a result of our devastating loss, nor is it due to any resentment I feel toward his coaches for how they overlooked him all these years. It isn’t because the journey started with such an abundance of Pop Warner glory, and then hit the obstacles of knee surgeries, a broken scapula, a really late growth spurt, and difficulty in the classroom before a diagnosis of ADHD was made. No, the ache in my chest is because I knew, sitting under those Friday Night Lights, that tonight was the end of another chapter in the life of my first-born.

I’m not good with finality, especially when it comes to our kids…and he is our first kid. My first childbirth, my first mommy fatigue, my first celebration of a first step, my first tears on the first day of kindergarten, my first tee-ball cheers, my first, well, you get the picture. It’s not the firsts that give me trouble though…it’s the lasts. The lasts. This was one of those – and that’s why I’m sad tonight. Another last.

I’m so proud of you, Son. I am so honored to be your mama. You were tiny – so short the coaches couldn’t even see you. You were so weakened by that knee injury from that damn trampoline. You had so many struggles in the classroom…but you NEVER EVER quit. I could add up all the hours of practice divide them by the amount of time you spent on the bench, and then multiply that by the fact that your very first real season on a high school football field also happened to be your last…and it wouldn’t equal even a fraction of the pride I have in you. My hero. My son. My heart.

Thank you, Lord, for this journey.