Is there ANY better feeling in the whole world than having a gym full of people cheer for YOUR daughter when she hits the winning basket?
I don't think so. She's thirteen and we are on the downhill side of raising her - in about 5 years, she'll be gone. Tonight, when she hit that shot with 6 seconds on the clock, I started to think that maybe we had done okay, that she is able to step up and keep it together under pressure when other people are depending on her. Maybe you can't say basketball equals life, but around these parts it's a pretty darn good metaphor. It was also the only game my dad has seen her play all season and the last home game for the year. Dad was visiting with one of his buddies from work who ahs already retired. The buddy's granddaughter fed Whit the pass for the winning shot, so it was kinda cool for them to see their granddaughters win the game.
I just read Night by Elie Weisel. It's like the grown up Anne Frank. Read it in one sitting. It's short, but it says everything.
peace, love and paper,
Debbi
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