May I find the best route to the hockey arena in rush hour traffic.
May there not be any road closures,
beginner drivers or other stressed out hockey parents in my path.
May the boy have remembered all his equipment.
May I hold my incredulous yell of
frustration back when we're running late
and he tells me he MIGHT have left his hockey gloves
on the floor back home.
May I find the grace not to scream at an opposing player who has just
elbowed my son in the head.
May I find a spot in the arena that is actually under a WORKING heater.
May I not get sick of Tim Horton's coffee in the next eight months.
May I try, for once, to just enjoy the game and not get stressed out.
May I have the right words to comfort and
encourage him when he has a bad game
and the exuberance to celebrate with him when he has had a good one.
May I remember that he loves this freezing, time-consuming,
money-sucking sport and that he is a thing of beauty when he skates.
And, most of all,
may I rememeber that his childhood is passing all too quickly
and that, one day, I will actually miss
all the time we spent in the vehicle hustling back and forth
between arenas.
One day, I will wish for that time back so let me hold it in
my memory as long as I can because it is flying away from me,
faster than my son on hockey skates.
