Tuesday (Playoff Game Day) Morning…
Anticipation of the game...
Subjective/Objective Data:
Breathing seems difficult today. There is a pit in my stomach. My eyes fill up with tears every so often…. continuing to try and hold them back. Ability to focus is off. Heart seems to be racing.
Wednesday Morning… The morning after the loss... Subjective/Objective Data: Breathing seems difficult today. There is a pit in my stomach. My eyes fill up with tears every so often… continuing to try and hold them back. Ability to focus is off. Heart seems to be racing.
As a nurse, which I am, you note the subjective and objective physical data of a person, but you always focus on the person as a whole. Their sensibilities are as important to their care as the physical data is. In trying to put into words the events and mixture of emotions of the last 24 hours, I found it very noteworthy that the two physical descriptions are exactly the same, but how totally different those feelings are within my heart today, compared to yesterday at this time. Today, my heart is aching, not physically really, but it seems like it.
I can only imagine how the athletes feel, but I know exactly how a mom of a senior hockey player (the last one of three) feels as their beloved son finishes one of their most important chapters of their lives. The anticipation of that final game is unbearable; not knowing which game will be the end of the journey.
For me, it has been a wonderful journey filled with a lot of ups and downs, twists and turns. It was a “roller coaster” of a ride, certainly not a boring “merry-go-round” one, and a ride that is not recommended for the faint of heart. It is unbelievable to me, even to this day, that a game can provide so much passion, fear, excitement, energy, anxiety, yet unending joy.
I have three boys (men), who loved this sport, played the game with integrity, and most of all passion. Our journey began at Eble Ice Arena in 1991 when my oldest son decided to learn to play hockey because a friend wanted to do it. It wasn’t due to my French Canadian heritage at all! Although, always a hockey fan, I never really imagined my sons playing this sport. It was just a fluke… just something to do with a friend whose dad worked for the Admirals, and decided we should give it a try. Of course in the beginning, it seemed like a huge strain to drive so far to the rink, purchase all the required gear, and commit the time required to actually learn to skate, and learn the game, but it soon became clear that this was no ordinary sport, and well worth the investment. Anyway, we never looked back… we were “all in.”
Twenty two years, thousands of games, hundreds of sticks, and endless friendships later, I found myself at the Nagawaukee Ice Arena last night clutching my rosary, while watching my third son play his last game representing his high school and playing alongside his teammates and treasured friends. It wasn’t his best game. It was a well-played, exciting hockey game, however, there were no moments of glory for him in this one. It ended 1-0 in overtime. But what struck me at the point of “sudden death,” was how truly blessed we are to have become so deeply invested into a game that has brought us so much definition, and so much joy to our lives. Not everyone wins all the time, and if they did, winning would have no meaning. I honestly couldn’t have been more proud, but yes, there is still sadness. So often we talk about the victories, and celebrate the successes, but it is actually the losses, the mistakes, and the regrets, that motivate and teach us, and most of all- keep our hearts in the right place.
Today the heart does ache, but soon that will fade and the other emotions of pride and joy will take over. As I watch this son move on with his life, which hopefully will include more hockey, I know there will be more games, more friendships, more challenges, more adversity, and also more opportunities for that shining moment. And all the while I will continue to fasten my seatbelt, clutch my rosary, hold onto my heart, and enjoy the ride. The journey continues.
Wednesday Morning… The morning after the loss... Subjective/Objective Data: Breathing seems difficult today. There is a pit in my stomach. My eyes fill up with tears every so often… continuing to try and hold them back. Ability to focus is off. Heart seems to be racing.
As a nurse, which I am, you note the subjective and objective physical data of a person, but you always focus on the person as a whole. Their sensibilities are as important to their care as the physical data is. In trying to put into words the events and mixture of emotions of the last 24 hours, I found it very noteworthy that the two physical descriptions are exactly the same, but how totally different those feelings are within my heart today, compared to yesterday at this time. Today, my heart is aching, not physically really, but it seems like it.
I can only imagine how the athletes feel, but I know exactly how a mom of a senior hockey player (the last one of three) feels as their beloved son finishes one of their most important chapters of their lives. The anticipation of that final game is unbearable; not knowing which game will be the end of the journey.
For me, it has been a wonderful journey filled with a lot of ups and downs, twists and turns. It was a “roller coaster” of a ride, certainly not a boring “merry-go-round” one, and a ride that is not recommended for the faint of heart. It is unbelievable to me, even to this day, that a game can provide so much passion, fear, excitement, energy, anxiety, yet unending joy.
I have three boys (men), who loved this sport, played the game with integrity, and most of all passion. Our journey began at Eble Ice Arena in 1991 when my oldest son decided to learn to play hockey because a friend wanted to do it. It wasn’t due to my French Canadian heritage at all! Although, always a hockey fan, I never really imagined my sons playing this sport. It was just a fluke… just something to do with a friend whose dad worked for the Admirals, and decided we should give it a try. Of course in the beginning, it seemed like a huge strain to drive so far to the rink, purchase all the required gear, and commit the time required to actually learn to skate, and learn the game, but it soon became clear that this was no ordinary sport, and well worth the investment. Anyway, we never looked back… we were “all in.”
Twenty two years, thousands of games, hundreds of sticks, and endless friendships later, I found myself at the Nagawaukee Ice Arena last night clutching my rosary, while watching my third son play his last game representing his high school and playing alongside his teammates and treasured friends. It wasn’t his best game. It was a well-played, exciting hockey game, however, there were no moments of glory for him in this one. It ended 1-0 in overtime. But what struck me at the point of “sudden death,” was how truly blessed we are to have become so deeply invested into a game that has brought us so much definition, and so much joy to our lives. Not everyone wins all the time, and if they did, winning would have no meaning. I honestly couldn’t have been more proud, but yes, there is still sadness. So often we talk about the victories, and celebrate the successes, but it is actually the losses, the mistakes, and the regrets, that motivate and teach us, and most of all- keep our hearts in the right place.
Today the heart does ache, but soon that will fade and the other emotions of pride and joy will take over. As I watch this son move on with his life, which hopefully will include more hockey, I know there will be more games, more friendships, more challenges, more adversity, and also more opportunities for that shining moment. And all the while I will continue to fasten my seatbelt, clutch my rosary, hold onto my heart, and enjoy the ride. The journey continues.
