Both of my boys got an amazing skill... and not from me. They have my passion about their own likes (and dislikes for that matter - little guy is NEVER going to like broccoli, no matter how many times he tries it) but they definitely possess an ability to let go that I have never attained. I call it "flipping the switch". Turning it off. Letting it go. Moving on and not looking back.
It's amazing to me, really. I still mull over conversations I had 20 years ago, replaying them in my mind wondering what other path I might have taken and what that might have led towards. It's a curse, really. Not necessarily a regret though. Just an inability to turn it off.
I guess I have a lot of lights on upstairs.
Our final football games occurred this weekend. Knowing exactly what we were most likely entering, little guy had huge passion and fire. He was excited. He was nervous. Despite a rough season, he wanted to leave his heart all over that field.
He did. He worked hard. He made mistakes. And he loved every progress and success. As he sat on the field after the final game, he fought back tears. Not tears of disappointment - he knew better than that. Tears that once again the game he loves has come to end. His pure love of the game is an awesome thing to witness.
We hugged a lot last night. We wrapped up on the couch for a few hours. We snuggled before bed talking about it.
And today, it is gone. The switch is flipped. He isn't dwelling. He isn't sad.
It's basketball season.
I wish I could do that. All of that passion, excitement, drama, anxiousness, stress... all shut off.
And who says we can't learn from our children.
Have a great Monday, friends!
Jen
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