Today was the big preschool soccer game. I had high hopes. Max has been talking about soccer all summer even practicing the drills sometimes. I should have known better but I really thought this would be the time Max would participate. I had visions of him running freely up and down the field with a big smile on his face. I was excited; Ian left work early to be there. This is what we dreamed of before having kids and even more so after having boys. Afternoons at the soccer field! This was going to be great.
Well, I didn’t have it exactly correct. The only time he was even out on the field he was on the opposite side of the action and it was because one of his little buddies held his hand and dragged him out there.
Like most organized activities, I left feeling sad. I wonder when I will accept Max’s delays; when I will stop mourning the loss of his “normal” life. There were plenty of other kids that were not participating, they were crying even, but I didn’t take comfort in that. I just wanted to shout out to everyone, “Wait, you don’t understand. He has special needs. He has delays. You should feel bad for him!” I know that someday I will come to terms. I’ll stop comparing him to every other kid and relish in his accomplishments rather than focus on his delays. I’m just not there yet and days like today take my breath away.