Grown Man Walking

Football has always been Zachary's thing. From the time he was old enough to color, he could draw every helmet in the NFL, complete with correct colors and mascot. He knew who played what position and what team they played for. When he was old enough to play in the little league program I cringed as I signed him up wondering if I would regret turning my little boy over to grown men who would teach him how to 'hit somebody'! After all, I had spent all these years teaching him not to hit others and how important it was to share and now someone, with whom I was vaguely acquainted with, would undo all of that. "Knock him down Zach! Get the ball back Zach!"

I can remember smiling as I watched him run onto that little field, pads bigger than him and white pants that would never again see any shade lighter than 'dingy' (that actually should be a color). I had to laugh as I watched every little boy run in no particular direction but they were sure going to find someone to tackle - even if it was someone on their own team!

Tonight Zach played his last regular season game on the Demon home field. The Senior ritual is to walk the length of the field after the game, side by side with your senior team mates, for the last time. Upon reaching the other end each coach shakes their hand (which usually ends up being a hug of sorts) and then the remainder of their team rushes them into one big pile of blue and white high-fives, 'boo-yahs', and grunts. It was as if that little boy who would run to me with a smile in his eyes and a "Mom, did you see me, did you?" on the tip of his tongue, magically transformed into a handsome, gentle, loving, respectful, funny, and yes, always hungry, young man as he walked toward me. With every step he took, the tears (mine and his) began to fall. Mine, as I realized that little boy will soon be ready to sign up again - for the 'big league' this time; and I have to find some way to turn him over. Only this time, I rest in the knowledge that I turn him over not to men but to a God who loves and cares for him even more than I can. And his... I'd like to think because he'll miss the mom that stands at the end of the field after every game to let him know that 'I sure did Zach, and you were awesome!'