H is for Heartbreak

     I mentioned a few days ago that my daughter's swim team is going through some major changes.  All three coaches have resigned.  It's become a very emotional time for everyone involved with the team.  YMCA teams tend to become a family.  We spend enormous amounts of time together.  Being a parent of a swimmer means you are very involved in what is going on because you have to be part of running the meets.  Even at away meets, teams have to provide timers to help run those meets, too.

     Losing one coach is hard.  Losing two coaches really hurts.  But, losing three (and in our case, all) your coaches is heartbreaking in so many ways.  All three coaches have been part of the team for many years.  Two of them since they were swimmers, themselves.  So, it's very emotional for them to leave something that has been such a big part of their lives.

     But, it goes even deeper than that.  Since our Y has not yet hired any new coaches, the uncertainty of what will happen has driven almost all our swimmers and their families to different teams.  It also means noone has volunteered to be part of the parent board next year.  Basically, it feels like our team is falling apart.

     I have been part of the parent board for the last two years.  This is a board that has worked endlessly to grow a team that was starting to struggle into a thriving team.  We more than doubled the number of swimmers on our team.  We had the two most profitable years our team has ever seen.  And, this year we took more swimmers to "state" (a meet you have to qualify for) than the team has taken in about a decade.

     Now we are down to probably less than 10 swimmers staying to see what happens.  My daughter is one of the swimmers that wants to stick it out.  It's so hard to take her to practice and see so many people missing.  Not only has my daughter made friends and grown close to her teammates, but I have grown close to and made friends with so many of the parents. 

     This is the place my daughter found her passion.  It's where she learned to love a sport and found a place to belong as part of a team.  It is where I watched her come alive as an athlete.  Something that I did not find until I was in my second year of high school.  And, because of this I fell in love with the sport myself, even if I don't actually participate in the sport as a swimmer.

     So, now I keep swinging from complete saddness, to reminding myself that things always work out and feeling hope back to saddness. And, in between, I fight anger that really has no place to be directed towards.

     No matter what, I know, what will be will be and our time with the Stingrays will always be a special time to remember.  I just hope it's not over entirely.  It just really is a heartbreaking situation right now.

Blogging A to Z



Mama's Heartbreak: A Love Story

My son turned 11 years old at the end of January.   He’s the biggest social butterfly of the family.  He’s already into the whole girl thing.  He’s been a little Casanova since pre-school when he was the only boy invited to a little girl’s birthday party.  At the party, all the mommas kept coming up to me and telling me how much their little beauties loved my son.  Back off girlies, he’s four and still  MINE!

When he was in third grade he decided he needed to wear cologne to school to impress a little girl.  That lasted about a week and a half.  The next year he spent about two weeks with his ear glued to the telephone with yet another little vixen trying to take my little boy away from me.

Well, now it seems I may have already lost my baby boy.  Not only does he talk about this newest Scarlet all the time, she’s sending him text messages with hearts all over the place.  They have hour long conversations on the phone.  And, to top it off, my darling little boy asked if he could buy HER a necklace for Valentine’s Day. 

Ambulances were called, a defibrillator was employed, psychiatrists prescribed medications and I am now undergoing intense psychotherapy.  I am told this therapy could last several years and may have to involve experimental techniques not yet FDA approved.

So that is where I put my foot down.  Maybe some people will scoff at me, but 11 is way too young to be buying jewelry for some little trollop that is probably just going to break his heart. We compromised on letting him get her a small heart shaped box of chocolates and a cheap ass rose, which I’m rethinking, but it’s too late for that.  I think my aforementioned medication clouded my judgment on that.

I spent Valentine’s Day watching the clock at work.  Both wishing I could be there to watch my son give Valentine gifts to a girl for the first time and glad I wasn't there to see it.  The hours dragged by as I tried not to imagine how it all went for him.  My impatience to hear him tell me about is day was almost unbearable. 

The clock did finally register home time and when I got home the first thing I asked my boy was what happened with his girl.  He says at first she blushed.  Then she thanked him.  Then he told me she said she wanted to kiss him.

My heart is now in a million pieces and there is a nice white jacket waiting for me as well as some men to take me to a nice soft room.