His team lost in the tournament's final 1.2 seconds by one point after having led the entire game thanks to a call that should have never been made. A referee who had hardly blown his whistle all night decided to see if his worked. Anyone with basketball knowledge knows you don't make a call especially for an event that didn't occur in the final second of a game when the outcome hinges on the call. You let the teams play ball.
Afterward as we solemnly stood around many with tear-streaked faces I was reminded of how I wish I could take away pain. I did intervene as one teenage girl said, "Don't cry" to a cheerleader who was weeping. I, this stranger, very clearly looked at the cheerleader and said, "You cry all you need" then looked at the consoler and said, "This is very sad." I suspected what the non-cryer was really saying to her friend was "Stop crying before you make me cry."
That night, I awoke several times thinking of my nephew. Each time, I did all I could do. I sent him love and prayers of comfort. I know scotchguarding life isn't recommended, wise or really possible, but I have wanted to ease his pain for fourteen years, since he was four and his parents divorced.
He and his teamates are getting a necessary, but painful lesson. As the first sentence of the book "The Road Less Traveled" reads: Life is difficult. Reading this in my mid-twenties prompted a light bulb experience for me. I was unhappily married to someone who should have remained my friend but became my husband. I cried close to constantly torn over divorcing, feeling so alone. Coming upon this sentence in Scott Peck's book, truly did illuminate something I had known since I was very young but had never had confirmed by an outside source. Life is difficult.
It's easy to say "life's difficult" it's the processing of the difficulty that seems challenging. We as a society don't appear to be doing so well in that department. We use pills, food, tv, shopping, the computer, fill in the blank ______ with your favorite activity for zoning out, to keep from feeling, especially feeling vulnerable, sad, powerless and afraid. This takes me back to Tuesday night's game.
The heartening thing in the heartbreaking loss was just about every young man who walked from that locker room was or had been crying. In a world, especially here in the South where men are suppose to be tough and in control, these young men's tears were a testament to change, a hopeful new time in which men no longer hide their feeling side.
My nephew was immediately met by his middle brother and his father who hugged him, not just a sideways, pat-on-the-back-don't-really-touch-me-cause-I'm-a- guy hug but a full more than six seconds, I'm-so-sorry hug. My sister and his older brother followed then my mother whose forehead comes to Christian's chest. That's when I witnessed a moment I hope to never forget. Granny Dean looked up at Christian and said something then he looked down and kissed her on the forehead.
Seeing my nephew at eighteen unafraid to hug, cry and kiss his Granny in front of God and everybody as 'they' say as well as my extended family allowing themselves to be visibly moved was truly a beautiful unexpected gift for me. After having felt like I was the alien in my family, being the only crier, I knew these people were my tribe.
So here it is, a full day and going into a second after the loss at the game and the death of a dream. Other dreams will die today nearby and even far away. The beauty of life is that in the dying, seeds of new dreams have already been planted. In time, with talking and tears, friends, family and faith seeds sown now will emerge as new dreams, hopes and possibilities. Life will still be difficult and life will still be unfair. We get to choose whether we'll sit on the sidelines or continue to play despite the lost dreams and bad calls.
With this in mind, I realize even if I could repel life's stains and pains, I wouldn't. The scotchguarding of hearts and lives would certainly mean no pain, but it would also rob us of the depth of living that comes with feeling, being connected, caring and sharing our entwined lives.
To paraphrase Shakespeare (I believe), "It is better to have played the game and lost than to have never played at all." I smile knowing my nephew and his team mates will in time bounce back from having played and lost.
In the meantime, to all the boys becoming young men in our world, never be ashamed of your hearts. Your hearts are needed now more than ever. Never fear feeling for feeling is how you know you are not scotchguarded. In the short run, life can hurt like heck. In the long run, the hurt is eventually repelled. Just like the ball on the court, you bounce back. You realize you're still around and you very much alive.
-Aunt Dawn! The Good News Muse, 03/04/10
No comments:
Post a Comment