It Happened To Me

It happened to me. Has it ever happened to you? You are going about your life, “living” day-by-day when suddenly something triggers your memories. Memories of the “good old days.” Memories of the person you used to be. Memories of the person you “thought” you would grow up to be. It happened to me. I was playing football in the front yard with my five year old son this weekend. Something I do far too little of these days. He wanted to play tackle, but I did not want to get dirty. I did not want to get tired. But watching him had a profound affect on me. You see, I saw myself in him. I saw that young boy who longed for nothing else than to be outside playing football. Running, jumping, playing. I could not help but wonder, where did that little boy go? You know the one. The kid who would rather be outside playing soldier than sitting in front of the television. The one that would rather be pretending to catch the game winning touchdown pass, or hit the half court shot at the buzzer to win the championship. What ever happened to that kid?

Remember the kid that used to run until he collapsed. The kid that would be lying in the grass with his buddies, all out of breath from hours of full on play. That kid held nothing back. That kid lived to play. He pushed himself to his physical limits on a daily basis. He did not just daydream. He went through the motions. That kid was the astronaut. He was the firefighter. The martial artist. The baseball slugger. Superman. Remind me again, what happened to that kid?

It seems somewhere along the way, I abandoned him. Left in the woods and presumed him dead. Growing up is not easy. I had to work my way through college so I had a little less time for that wild little boy. But he was still there, and he frequently showed himself. After college, I had even less time for him. I was starting a career. I had to work long and hard to be successful. That’s what everyone expected of me. I was getting married. I was having children. Soon, I had no time for that kid at all. I had to pay the bills. I had to make more money so I could live the American dream. So that my children could have all the best and want for nothing. My father did it. Sure, we spent time together. We tossed the pigskin around every now and then, but not often enough. Little did I realize, that what my kids want most…more than the video games or the latest toys. More than the mp3 players and the blu-ray discs. More than anything, they want to spend time with me. Time reading and drawing. Time ripping and running. Most of all, they want to meet…that kid. That kid I used to be.

I thought that kid was dead, but this weekend I heard his faint, familiar voice calling. Maybe he is not dead. Maybe he has just been roaming around in the wilderness, searching for his way back home. This weekend I caught brief glimpses of that kid in the reflection of my sons eyes. What happened next may sound quaint, but to me it was exhilarating. Next, I decided to get dirty. I decided to get tired. I chose to bring that lost little boy out of the woods and introduce him to my son and it was amazing. It was fulfilling. More fulfilling than that pat on the back from my boss. More fulfilling than the extra money that promotion brought. More precious than the rarest crystal. I can sound altruistic and say that I did it for my son. To see him laughing and playing and enjoying himself, but that would only be half of the truth. While I am sure he got a lot out of it, I know that my portion was at least equal to his own. Now I know that I want to spend the rest of my life introducing my children to that kid. I want to teach them to never abandon that adventurous little boy or girl that lives inside of them as I did. I want to show them how that kid and their dad can live side-by-side.

It happened to me. Has it ever happened to you?