Monday Night Soccer

I don’t normally handle the soccer. In our divide-and-conquer family, L takes the soccer. I take the karate and theater.

But tonight, we switched. I watched my son do his thing between high fives and drinks of water.

And I coudn’t help but feel my dad was there, watching with me. Wishing he’d had moments like these.

I wondered what that might have looked like. Would he have been thinking about work, like I was? Wondering if there were enough groceries in the fridge? Worried about the state of the world? Distracted, always distracted?

I don’t know. I’m sorry to say I don’t think I knew him well enough to know the answers to those questions.

I also don’t know if he was with me last night, in some form or another. Enjoying watching his grandson.

I like to think he was. Maybe that’s enough. It has to be, I guess.