I cried tonight in the car – sat in the drive way crying like a baby. Deep shuddering sobs of pain born of the belief that my darling boy had not made the JV basketball team.
It takes 25 minutes to drive in silence from the school to our house and for every one of the 25 minutes my mind was racing to find the right words of comfort and positive spin to make the cut be a good thing (more time to focus on studies do other things etc) or even just merely ok.
For the first three nights of try outs we had made this same journey and I had wrung information from his exhausted body like blood from a stone. He had rationalized and become comfortable with his decision not to try out for varsity given the depth of talent and his sophomore height and status. Each day was really tough but the feedback was essentially good, or ok, or fine, or even great at one point, and we moved onto the next day hopeful.
But here he was slumped against the seat, drenched in sweat, flicking his I-Pod from one dark miserable song to the next. His face was totally implacable and I could feel myself overwhelmed beginning to tear up and cry, my heart was breaking for him. How could I possibly find something to replace basketball and being on the team for him.
So there I was sobbing in the driveway for his loss when he pops his head over the seat and tells me practice starts on Tuesday. The evil man/boy had only tricked me into believing that he didn’t make the team. Just for the sport of it, for the big reveal of saying I made it.
I want to strangle him, hug him and kiss him all at the same time.
Even now I am smiling. My boy made the JV basketball team.
All’s right with the world and I can breathe easy again.