Heart

This time of the year, many years ago, you would have found me sitting at the table creating numerous, meticulously crafted Valentines.  Without any time, space, or energy to spare, I think I'll do something different than in years past.  I have so many thoughts that I want to share with my little boys, I worry that I'll invariably get caught up in the business of living that I'll forget to tell them.  So this year, and hopefully every year from here on out, I will craft a Valentine's wish for them from my heart, and share it with you all in my blog.

Those of us who have kids (and even those who are planning on having kids) think frequently about what we wish for our kids.  Sometimes this list leans on the superficial side-- good teeth, perfect vision, height.  But mostly it's not-- we want them to be happy and healthy, generous and kind.  My list used to be a little long, but with recent events I've reevaluated these priorities.  Perfect vision isn't so important any more; good looks (even though I know both boys will be hotties) isn't such a big deal either.  Nowadays, my list is pretty short.

My wish for my boys is: to have, above all other things, heart.

I think a side story is needed here to explain what I mean by heart.  Flashback to the Fall of 1994, when my big brother suggested that I join the Milpitas High School wrestling team.  (That would be the boys wrestling team, since there was no girls wrestling at the time.)  I was never particularly attracted to wrestling, or sports in general, but it sounded fun so I thought, "Why not?"  Five days a week I trained with a group of 20 or so boys, doing strength and endurance training, and a whole lot of wrestling.  It wasn't easy.  We would sometimes do a run that took us to a golf club at the top of a big hill, and I was always amongst the last ones there.  And compared to the 3-5% body fat most wrestlers had, I competed with a staggering 18%.  So while I wrestled boys in my weight class, they all had a significant advantage in terms of muscle mass.  That year I won one match the entire season.  

The next year and the year after that was more or less the same.  My losses didn't really get to me since I never expected to win, I just went out there and did my best at not getting pinned.  I enjoyed the challenge and the camraderie with the guys, and my record didn't influence my vision of success.  

In the middle of my third season I had a conversation with my coach that I will never forget.  Out of all the talent we had on our team, he said that he wished my teammates were more like me.  Why?  Because I had heart.  I kept going out there, to physically fight with a boy in front of a crowd of people, no matter how many times I had been beaten.  Coach Duran taught me the value of my perserverance, over talent and circumstance.                                  None of us is born perfect.  In the scrambling of recombination that goes on before that fertilized egg first divides, we are each dealt a hand of cards.  We each have to learn how to play that hand, good or bad, in a way that will produce the most positive outcome. And this is where heart comes in.  When life gets difficult you can sulk in defeat, or you can fight and fail until you are finally successful. 

So, Linus and Magnus, have heart. 

Our little fighter, with his new painted prosthesis.