It’s not about me, this awesome moment. It’s about our son. I thought I’d experienced more than my share of these awestruck moments this year: watching him play offense and defense in football and be near the ball every time, watching him come in off the bench and energize the basketball game from a defensive standpoint, watching him race across the finish line at lightning speed in his gold track shoes, or even watching him check his grades for school online (of his own volition) and determine where he was at and if he needed to improve.
No. The most awesome moment came yesterday.
He’s fifteen going on sixteen and lettered in three sports and achieved almost straight A’s for his freshman year. (His French class was .5 away from an A; can you believe it?) Yesterday, he was awarded “Athlete of the Year” by his school. This award is nominated by the coaches and voted upon by the teachers at his school.
Now, my husband and I are more than aware that he has come into his own in the last year and a half, but to be the one holding the video camera as the speech was being made about him and watch “our son” walk to the podium with such decorum, grace, and honor was beyond thrilling. It was a moment of extreme awe. It was our child walking up to the podium and getting this kind of recognition from his school. Our child who used to hate to get dirty or touch grass, who needed help with cutting his pancakes for a number of years, who still likes to say one extra good-bye before he heads out that door. Our child. My child.
Awesome seemed to be the word of the day to describe him as we walked the halls of his school yesterday; each teacher or student that passed us or stopped to say hello or congratulate him on his award. Awesome or cool was also a common sentiment from his friends and classmates waiting outside at the school entrance as we left.
I was so proud of him, so astonished by him, and so humbled all at once. Overcome, I recalled the first few hours after he was born when this little newborn was staring over at me from the newborn bassinet in the hospital, just staring right into my soul at that point. I remember feeling astonished at the thought that this little person now depended upon me. It’s the day I grew up, ascended to adulthood for good.
And now, here he is, almost grown up, himself, and all these people in his world now recognize and appreciate his gifts and the wonder of him.
What an amazing moment for him and for us.