Do you ever have one of those days that you can feel your child's pain? Feel the heartache? Feel it so intensely that it is worse then your own pain or heartache. I had one of those days this weekend. Correction. I actually had two of those days this weekend
I am sure I have mentioned it before, but Davis swims with a top-notch swim team. He loves swimming. He (usually) does not mind the long and intense practices, is not bothered by the cold temperatures or the cold water, and loves the meets. He works hard and has consistently improved over the past few months. He has become accustomed to time drops and accolades from his coaches.
This weekend was a different story.
Of the ten races that he competed in, there were a few shining moments. Two new time drops, and meeting a new time standard for another race.
But then there were the other events. A handful of "DQs" (disqualifications) for rules that I did not even know existed (did you know it is illegal to take the first arm stroke in breaststroke before you take your first breath? No? Well, I did not either). And a very close call by an official who thought he left the blocks to early during a relay (which was especially painful because it caused his entire relay team to be DQed).
How is it that a 10 year old can try so desperately to act like a man in one moment, and fall apart like a child in the next moment.
I saw Davis fight to be strong.
I saw Davis put on a brave face in front of his team mates.
I saw Davis stand tall and still as he talked to his coaches.
I saw this boy:
But then, when we walked away from everyone, I saw someone else.
I saw heartbreak.
I saw disappointment.
I saw someone who still likes to be hugged by his mama and be told that everything will be alright.
I saw this boy:
This is not the first time I have felt his pain, and I know this won't be the last.
But it never gets any easier.