“Freedom isn’t free. And if no one’s son or daughter serves, then who protects the freedoms the rest of us enjoy?”
There they were, tucked between the red clay, the white lines, the polite applause, and the sudden roar of the crowd - lessons in pressure, resilience, grace, heartbreak, mindfulness, and the strange beauty of starting over.
Sometimes we have to dig deep for the things worth celebrating, because not all victories arrive carrying balloons.
After living most of my life, or 55 years of it, I have come to recognize myself as a bit of a loser when it comes to games and contests that require luck, and I usually steer clear, especially when money is involved.
But I also consider those who may not be there. Those children who have struggled and continue to do so, who are not a part of the end-of-the year merriment, who did not complete (and may not have started), who did not attend a prom and did not pose in their tux or gown.
This morning, my daughter sent me a Tik Tok of a cool, AirPods-sporting, blond-haired girl with a look of disdain on her face. At the top of the screen, these words are written: School making us believe our worth is determined by a grade. And in the video, the above-mentioned girl, in a deep voice, says, “Now that was a lot of damage.”
Seasons do not change only outside our windows or inside our closets. They change within us, too. And each new season asks us to take inventory—not simply of what we have been wearing, but of what we have been carrying.