The Football Season

It's here.

The time of year that I wait for all year long, but this year it's coming with a bit of anxiety and slight dread.  My coach won't be on the sideline.  He'll be watching, I'm sure of that- but there won't be any kisses after the game: win or lose.  There won't be moments where he'll turn and look for me in the stands.  There won't be the excitement of watching game film and talking about his thoughts on what the guys are doing, and who will stand out.  There just won't be.......

The annual fundraiser for his team happened on Saturday night.  It was amazing.  There aren't words to tell you how great it was to see my boys running around, laughing, getting wet, enjoying themselves and being able to hug all the guys from the team again.  There was such a great feeling among the family and community that came out to support the Gophers, as well as recognize all the hard work put in by the Booster Club.  It really is a class act in Florence.

I asked my mother-in-law if she would walk out onto the football field with me.  I hadn't set foot on the field since the homecoming game last year, where our team won against all odds- for Steve.  The lights had come on, and the sun was sinking behind the mountains.  The air had cooled and the stars slowly beginning to twinkle when my feet hit the grass once more.  I had dragged my feet slightly, making my way across the track, and then took a deep breath and placed my feet on the turf once ruled by my love.

It's different. I hate it.

I feel like Steve and I worked so hard to finally find the place where he belonged, where we could raise our kids; where we belonged.  Florence had become that place for us.  It was not the same Saturday night.  It's not terrible, but so much has changed.  It's not completely my team anymore.  While the boys are Steve's boys and will be forever, what tied us together has changed.  They are still the wonderful players that I have grown to know and love and pray for nightly, but it's almost like the color has been sucked from the grass, and the lights and the noises that once thrilled me- have left me feeling low.

I want my life back.  All of it.

It is selfish and slightly crazy to desire that which can never be and yet I do.  Oftentimes it is late at night when I struggle against what is; and I know that there will be peace some day.  Just not today- and that's okay.

I'm not sure of my place in this world right now.  There is no Steve on the couch, with his laptop on his lap multi-tasking as he worked up schemes and watched Sunday night football.  His hands in constant motion drawing plays, and laughing at the boys.  What am I supposed to do with this?  How am I supposed to let go of 14 years of football, life, love?  Perhaps that's the point.

I can't. Not yet.

This is my game.  It was before I met Steve and before those countless nights as he patiently walked me through the positions of the defense and the offense, then explained to me quietly what an 'I' formation or a 4-3 defense looked like.  I know where the B gap is located, and depending upon the play, who needs to shoot it.  I have a weakness for the defensive line and the offensive line and the thankless job those linemen have.  I am a coach's wife without a coach.  I am half of a whole, and I'm struggling with that.
So- when you see those Friday night lights, and hear the crack of helmets and the whistles blowing, please take a second to pray for my family as we come upon the anniversary of a moment forever marked by the space it has created in an otherwise full life.  Hug your kids, love your spouse and know that there will be a time for overcoming- it's just not yet.

Much love,
Kami