A series of break-throughs occurred to me this weekend. It was enlightening and inspiring all at once.
First, I have no sports heroes. I guess I am finally realizing this. Floyd, Basso, you name the ‘cliche’’. I can not relate to them. I’ll never ride the Tour. I’ll never be tempted to cheat. My hero was…no…IS my dad. And he wasn’t killing it on a bike or with a bat and ball to make us proud. He was killing it with his 2 hour-each-way commutes to NYC. He was killing it with his lessons in how to detect bull shit artists and steer clear. He was killing it in leading by example: “…just get home to your family.” And so, I try to emulate.
The second break through was seeing this ALL in reverse. My son doing his best to be a son to me. To make me proud. To have a moment with me. And he succeeded. They both succeed in this, my sons, but my eldest broke through yesterday on his own terms in his own way and did his best. His absolute best.
I could care less if they ride. I just want my boys to be happy and healthy and motivated. But the joy was evident as Aiden and I…flowed.
And so I share. He was a hero to me yesterday.