Skip to main content

Do Only Our Best


Do Only Our Best
When I was in elementary school there was this little boy.  Yes, he was maybe as little as I was back then, even in fifth grade. His brown burnt tinge colored hair lay on top of his high Irish freckled, sunny, Catholic face. It's as though I just saw him yesterday. That yesterday being nearly fifty years ago. You see I describe Kevin, Kevin McCormick,  that was his name.  I describe him as I see him in my mind's eye, from when we were kids. 

The crippled, yet happy go-lucky boy, properly dressed,  properly quaffed, walking to school with such extraordinary jerky motion in every stride of his walk.

He was the nice boy.  From what I understood,  he came from a strict upbringing. I gather it was due to the large Catholic family he was born into. I don't ever recall Kevin being called to the Principall's office,  nor receiving detention. His perpetual smile remains with me.

What this all brings me to is, and no I don't mean to sound like we need to give out more trophies,  like for 6th place. Nope, not going there. But, what's fair is fair.  However,  if "What's fair IS fair'. Then tell me this: Why oh why aren't the Paralympics on regular national television, as the Olympics of the more fortunately able graced athletes were just a few weeks ago? Not the extra channels you have to pay for. I'll wait...

Believe it or not, I look forward to watching all athletes in whatever their achievements with or without noticeable struggles. Why? Because it's the human spirit we need to witness that at times provides us more life.  Yes, there is more to life than what we view as perfection.

Perfection is not really where it's at. It's the survival beyond the seemingly perfect that matters.---Jody-Lynn Reicher 


Popular posts from this blog

Completion of Humanness

Completion of Humanness As we arrive to the completion of the first year without Norman, I had decided long before he'd passed that I would continue to do things certain things he liked yet could no longer do. I decided I would not take a day off of fitness.  I would run at least for 500 days in a row. I began that in early 2020.  I'd not be concerned with the distance I'd run. It was the very thing I convinced Norman and the thing that mattered to him, from the very first discussion we had August 11th, 1981, was fitness. I loved that he was a College Boy. He loved that I was a Marine. We tickled each other's soul with such admirations. Later fitness continued as an old discussion from 1994 ...getting outside and to run no matter what. I would say to him, "Run 200 meters, then 400 meters. If it doesn't feel good, stop. Turn around and walk back home and know you did your best. That is all you can ask of yourself." I said this,  knowing he would get dow

In My World

As I finish putting away the week's groceries, I contemplate other's lives. Aside from my two daughters,  I consider what may be other's lives.  How they have conducted their lives over the past two years.  This is a thought not unusual for me to have. Yet, it occurs more often than not. Especially  now, as the population is probably feeling ever more irked. Regarding perhaps. their illusion of any lack of their freedom. But isn't that what life is about? The illusion of who we are. What we are about. Where we stand on the planet. Who we love. And who loves us. Our significance. Couldn't we imagine if this were all just an illusion? Sounds like a "Twighlight Zone" episode, perhaps. My aim here, are the thoughts of reckoning. I'll explain why I'm claiming such a thing. For about twenty-eight years of a career in dealing with injured athletes,  pain patients, chronically ill and the terminally ill. I found that there were many people who lied to

It's About the Soul And...

  ...perhaps the soles of our shoes. My father-in-law used to say the feet are what soldiers depend on, as we do food. He said that to me in 1985 as I stood in his home office.  My husband, Norman was a shoe guy. And it was all about the soles on the shoes.  For me, the way I have stayed on my feet was soul deep. Sometimes praying every step of the way, to not fall over out of exhaustion. The approximately 170,000 miles of running, many of which Norman had witnessed or known of. He wondered how I stayed standing working on my feet all day. Only to come home, and go for a second run at midnight at times.  Often Norman would give me a lecture on good shoe care. It was about the soles of the shoes. He'd point out stitching on a shoe that was done wrong. Therefore commenting, " a shoe less time of wear on this earth."  He'd remark quite often. "You have to buy good quality shoes." I have to say, there was absolutely something comedic about his shoe obse