Letting Go

I sent my son Luke a text last night, it read, “I am so proud of you right now it is making me cry. Losing in a shootout sucks, but you are becoming a man right before my eyes”. Sports do that, hockey does that. Last year Luke tried out for a select team hosted by the Carolina Hurricanes that makes an annual pilgrimage to Quebec to compete in the largest PeeWee Hockey Tournament in the world. He did not make the team. As a mom I chalked it up to a learning experience, but that did not stop my heart from hurting when I saw his reaction to being told the news. He got over it and so did I, and he went on doing what he loves – playing hockey.
This year when Luke was approached to play on that same team, he was ready. He stepped up his game, and his courage, and accepted the position. This was not an easy thing for Luke, or for me. These players go to Quebec for 11 days and live with billet families, in Luke’s case the mother and 3 children barely spoke English, their native language is French. Luke is a homebody – this was definitely out of his comfort zone. I don’t think the reality of it all hit until we went to get his passport and paid for his airline ticket. Luke started getting excited, I started getting nauseous. As the date of departure drew closer I packed and repacked his stuff, bought and borrowed winter clothes, begged and bribed his teachers to help make this work for Luke, and worried about what presents to send to his host family. I started having nightmares about planes and other what ifs that I know would nag me until he came home. The problem was I was not going on this trip. I was taking a leap of faith and sending my 12 year old boy on a plane, to another country, with a team I barely knew…please pass the Valium!
Luke called crying the first night not sure if he was up to this challenge. I talked tough, pumped him up, hung up and then cried at home. Ten minutes later he called back breathlessly asking where his pond hockey skates were packed – and with that he was off and running. This was the first time my son, my oldest, was living a life that I had no control over. I texted him, but unless he chose to text me back there were entire days that went by when I had no idea what he was doing or who he was with. I confess under normal circumstances I am the one people ask, why do you even have a cell phone? You never have it on or have it with you. During this incredibly long 11 days I carried that phone EVERYWHERE, and when it rang I rushed to answer it like a lovesick teenager. We raise our children to be independent and self reliant but this first brush with adulthood was overwhelming for me.
The wonders of technology allowed me to download a live feed of Luke’s tournament games, so I got to watch him play. On the night of the first game a fellow hockey Mom happened to have stopped by, so she witnessed my frenzied attempts to get the game on, by the time I got it right it was the second period, and it booted up just in time to allow me to see the OTHER team, the Colorado Avalanche, score. The first time I saw Luke take the ice I clapped and screamed like a little girl. Luke scored a beautiful goal on a breakaway – I hurt my hand banging it on the table. He scored again, another breakaway. The game ended 3-1, we advanced and I was beside myself that I was not there to share in the excitement, especially when I found out that Luke had scored the first goal as well – a hat trick! Game number 2 was against Germany, Luke scores, then Germany ties it up, a Hurricanes teammate scores, it is 2-1 we win and advance, and again I am alone in my kitchen celebrating while my son dances on the ice with his team in Canada. Game #3 is against Hershey who finished second overall in last year’s tournament. Luke scores a beauty at the end of the first period; it is 1-0 for the rest of the game then heartbreak. Less than two minutes left one of our guys gets a penalty, man down and with 39 seconds left in the game they tie it up. No one scores in a five minute overtime and we lose in a shootout. I am again sitting at my table as my son and his team take deep breathes and take their consolation lap around the ice as they salute their fans and the citizens of Quebec who opened their hearts and their city to them. It was then, watching Luke handle defeat that I got a glimpse of the man that he will become. It was then that I sent the text, and it was then that I was the most proud.
This tournament has given Luke the opportunity to see beyond the small communities we have always lived in. He played teams from Russia, England, Switzerland, Canada and other parts of the United States. He budgeted his own money, scheduled 8 days worth of homework and sat down with a strange family every night for dinner. Do I wish his team had won? YES!!!!! I cannot tell a lie, it drives me absolutely crazy that the Avalanche advanced through the loser’s bracket and played in the championship – WE BEAT THEM!!! It drives me equally insane that Hershey, who beat us in a shootout, won our division!! But I will get over it and so will Luke. What will remain is a new found confidence for both of us. Luke will come away with a better understanding of all that he is capable of, and I hope a willingness to continue to reach for things that might seem to be beyond his grasp. And I come away a little bit closer to being ready to accept that my little boy, who turns 13 two days after he gets back, is growing up. Hockey does that.