Keeping it in perspective
Sometimes we need a gentle reminder of what is really important. As the Adams Central boys bowling team competed Sunday for the Class C state championship, I was on the lanes coaching the team, which includes my younger son. Unbeknownst to me, about midway through the fourth game, my older son, who has epilepsy, was sitting in the stands feeling an aura, which is the feeling one gets before having a seizure.
My wife took my older son out of the arena to get him to a safe place in case he did have a seizure. The staff at Sun Valley Lanes was phenomenal with not only assisting her but also understanding she was trying to be two places at once. As she ran back and forth between her sons, the match was getting very close. Fortunately with the assistance of an employee, my older son was able to stand in the back of the arena and watch his brother throw two strikes in the 10th frame of the fifth and final game to win the state championship.
As I turned to look at my wife, I thought she was shedding tears of joy for what the team had just accomplished. When learning a few minutes later they were also tears of concern, I had to take a moment to reflect before walking out of the arena. Although what the team had just done was a dream come true for all of us, my immediate thoughts shifted to my older son.
Championships will eventually be forgotten, but what my son and countless others live with continues long after the results of a sporting event fade. While my son’s medication prevented a seizure, I got that little reminder to keep things in perspective when it comes to sporting events and life.
Sometimes we need a gentle reminder of what is really important. As the Adams Central boys bowling team competed Sunday for the Class C state championship, I was on the lanes coaching the team, which includes my younger son. Unbeknownst to me, about midway through the fourth game, my older son, who has epilepsy, was sitting in the stands feeling an aura, which is the feeling one gets before having a seizure.
My wife took my older son out of the arena to get him to a safe place in case he did have a seizure. The staff at Sun Valley Lanes was phenomenal with not only assisting her but also understanding she was trying to be two places at once. As she ran back and forth between her sons, the match was getting very close. Fortunately with the assistance of an employee, my older son was able to stand in the back of the arena and watch his brother throw two strikes in the 10th frame of the fifth and final game to win the state championship.
As I turned to look at my wife, I thought she was shedding tears of joy for what the team had just accomplished. When learning a few minutes later they were also tears of concern, I had to take a moment to reflect before walking out of the arena. Although what the team had just done was a dream come true for all of us, my immediate thoughts shifted to my older son.
Championships will eventually be forgotten, but what my son and countless others live with continues long after the results of a sporting event fade. While my son’s medication prevented a seizure, I got that little reminder to keep things in perspective when it comes to sporting events and life.
Roger Nash
Hastings
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