A mom bends over to double-knot the shoelaces on her cleats. The shrill of a whistle brings her quickly to her feet. She peers down and straightens out her shorts and jersey and with a final brush of her hand, pulls her hair back into a pony tail and takes to the soccer field.
This is her time. A time to unwind, to run, kick, sweat and focus on nothing but a ball and a net. For now, she need not consume herself with checkbooks and laundry and menus and a cluttered mind.
She glances up into the stands and sees her son and husband watching on. She smiles, wondering how long before the roles are reversed and it’s her sitting there cheering on her precious son as he attempts to play the same game with his peers . She hears the holler of a team mate and makes her way down field, volleying the grass-stainless ball up the turf with her tightly laced footwear. This is her time.
A father shuts down his computer at the end of the day and loads into a van to drive back to the city to help his daughter pack up the remainder of her belongings from her college dorm. Another semester comes to a close. It seems like only last week he was repeating this annual rite. She has grown a tad wiser, he, a bit grayer. The miles on both the vehicle and the father, continue to mount up.
Tomorrow will always be another day. The sun rises and sets. Life just rolls on. People with blank faces pass by you throughout the day, and their expressions tell an array of stories. Many of their plots mirror your own. But each person’s life has its own twist of drama.
And it always strikes me how there are some things that simply never change; while on the other hand, other things will never be the same again.
They tell me: “That’s life”.
