I love the Olympics--winter and summer, but I think the winter games are my favorite. In 1980, I remember nursing a newborn late at night in my living room while silently chanting U-S-A U-S-A. The Miracle on Ice unfolded before my eyes and I was mesmerized. There they were; a bunch of college kids playing against "professionals" from other countries and we won the gold. Before that I liked the Olympics, but after that, I was hooked.
I started listening to the stories of how the competitors got there--the sacrifices they and their parents made so they could participate in these incredible events that bring the world together--if only for a couple of weeks every two years. It shows me that it can be done.
This year, I cried with the Canadian ice skater who skated for her mom; the mom that died suddenly two days before JoAnnie was due to compete. I cried with her when she raised her arms toward heaven and her mom after a skate that won her a bronze medal.
I saw a hockey player play his best for parents who hocked their wedding rings many years earlier so they could afford hockey lessons for their child. And I saw a skier who skied to gold for his brother with cerebral palsy. The brother was there cheering louder than anyone else.
There are so many glorious athletic accomplishments that occur during the Olympics. But what I love the most is the knowledge that a family worked together so an athlete could compete. For instance there was the family of another skier who voted to forego buying each other Christmas presents this year and pool their money so they could send a son and a brother to Vancouver.
That is what family is all about, folks. Think about it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment