Last night, Grant carefully planned his coaching wardrobe; choosing a suit with a tie in the team color of red. As he carefully laid out his coaching strategy to me on the way to school, I knew I needed to figure out a way to be there. And that I did.
Just four years past, Benny Lane, filled the same coveted role as coach of the 8th graders. Ben had a drawn-on mustache and wore a pair of his older brother's head phones for effect. I missed watching the rivalry play that day. It didn't work into my schedule.
Later, another mom sent me pictures of my coach-son and told me what a riot the match was, as was Ben's performance. Regret. My happenings of the day didn't seem as important anymore as I viewed the text photos of Ben.
And then I blinked and four years passed. It happened…