Sunday, November 17

Grace comes in various forms.

Today, I messed up.  Well, I mess up a lot, but today, I messed up BIG time.  We were in Athens for a swim meet for Bentley.  We spent Saturday night there, and we had a very early wake up this morning.  Bent had to be at the pool by 7:45.  We packed up our stuff and managed to be at the pool right on time.  I quickly looked at the events on my phone and wrote them on Bent's arm.  He went off for his warm ups.

He has become a very independent swimmer.  He watches the boards, talks to his coaches, and lines up for his events without any help from us.  He never misses an event.  He's usually there early, just to make sure, bouncing around nervously with his goggle straps in his mouth.  He is easily identifiable from afar.

He missed his third event.  I was in SHOCK.  I knew he would be upset, so I took off to try and get his attention and see what had happened.  I WROTE THE EVENT INCORRECTLY.  It was my fault.  The event was the 50 yard backstroke--his easiest chance to swim a state cut time today--his time is only a few seconds off, and it's from last year!  There are so many things I could write about this.  I felt horrible.  I took a little walk around the rec center.  I cried a little.  I prayed a lot.  I gathered myself and my senses. I always double check everything, and today, I didn't.  He missed his first race in over a year, his first race since he started doing it mostly himself.

I made it back into the natatorium just in time to see him lining up for his last event, the 100 Fly.  He had never swam it before, so he had no seed time.  He swam it unbelievably well--coming in first place and swimming a state cut time.  It was a beautiful swim.  I may have teared up for the second time in less than an hour.

We loaded into the car when it was all over, and I apologized for writing the wrong thing on his arm.  He did more than just forgive me; he tried his best to comfort me.  He reminded me that everyone makes mistakes, and he knew that I didn't mean to do it.  He wasn't upset with me at all.    Today, grace came in the shape and words of an almost-ten-year-old, and it was healing.

I think he gets to write on his own arm next time.  :)

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