It Hurts.

The end of the season is quickly approaching. Regular season games have been played. Thankfully, there are playoff games and I’m praying every day they make it as far as humanly possible in the world of high school sports.

Yesterday I got a text from our son telling me his soccer cleats were torn and he needed tape for them. My heart shattered into a million pieces at that very moment because I knew exactly why the text was different than before. Last year the text would have included a plea for the latest and greatest cleats to replace his worn out, stinky cleats. And I would have looked online for a deal, a coupon, anything to help me justify the ridiculous cost. They would’ve arrived in the mail a few days later. But not this time.

This time there is no need to buy new cleats with only a few games left. I held it together later that evening when I let him know that there were adult leagues he could play for. He laughed and said, absolutely not. And then quickly told me there’s no way he’d let me come watch him play soccer in an adult league.

He feels it too. He told me that the last few soccer practices have been sad. Again, I gave him options to how he could keep playing, knowing it was only wishful thinking.

So today, I let myself have a moment. I thought about how much I’ll miss the smell of his rancid soccer clothes. I’ll miss freezing in the stands and standing near the locker rooms after a game to hug him and tell him he did a great job. I’ll miss waiting up to make sure he gets home safely after a long bus ride home. I’ll miss him telling me what he said to the other teams’ players when they were shoving each other on the field (he loves smack talk) but remember how he offered his hand to the same player to help him up. I’ll miss the busy season where all my friends know I’m not available if there’s a soccer game, and they get it. They’re busy doing the same.

I’ll miss it all. Deeply.