Hearts Wide Open

It wasn’t the fact that she had played better than ever during the first ever night game. That was truly a pleasure to watch, especially after her playing for four years and now playing against other girls who were much faster and much better at dribbling and passing the soccer ball.

No, it was what happened after the game. What happens after every game when we’re leaving.

“Great job, Beatrice.”

“You almost got one, Beatrice.”

“See you later, Beatrice.”

And more of that sentiment, from her teammates and the parents. This is still recreational soccer, mind you, but the level of play now at the U12 level is more competitive than I ever saw coaching U8 or U10 girls soccer. Of course, Beatrice responds in kind, thanking her teammates and saying good job and see you next time.

It’s a testament to her coaches and her teammates, and the parents, too, supporting their girls at every game.

But it’s also a testament to Bea’s big heart. She’s compassionate, confident, loving, diplomatic, empathic, understanding, and it really shows in every relationship she has. Her teachers concur. Her friends concur. Her sister concurs. Her parents concur.

Unfortunately she also stresses about things like I did when I was her age, where she internalizes her angst after fixating on something that is stressing her out. Like math and reading, where she struggles academically. The stress keeps her up at night and she can’t sleep, just like I remember doing, and still experience today sometimes.

She can now articulate her angst, though, much better than I ever could. And she doesn’t like feeling that way either, like she has fever that spikes that she longs to break and be free of. We share these blue genes, but she doesn’t like to wear them at all, while I grew used to wearing them (out) over and over as my defense mechanism growing up, battling periodic depression as a reaction to stressful situations. Resulting sometimes in panic attacks that are thankfully a hazy distance these days.

Regardless, Bea certainly doesn’t shy away from trying new things and giving it her all. Like playing flute in intermediate band now. Last year she played the trombone, and then changed her mind, wanting to play the flute instead, to share in the melody instead of the bass back beat. We told her that she’d have to probably start in beginning again unless we got her lessons over the summer, and she practiced, which we did and she did. Then we encouraged her to talk with her band teacher and to “try out” for intermediate band, which she did, and had learned enough to earn her spot. She's pretty good too, but she didn’t stop there. The band teacher likes to have kids from intermediate band help mentor and practice with beginning band, and it’s something Beatrice asked to do. Loves doing it in fact.

And then there’s after-school musical theater, where both her and her younger sister Bryce have been participating in for the past two years. And then there’s the environmental club that Bea wanted to join. And then there was being a recess monitor. And who knows what’s next.

It’s not that Bryce doesn’t jump in feet first as well. She actually dives in head-first from the high dive singing her favorite song as loud as she can. And, when she doesn’t want to do something, she’s just as animated. And loud.

But Bryce hasn’t had the developmental delays her big sister has had to overcome and constantly compensate for. Something that is a continuous feedback loop that we’re all involved in, especially my wife Amy. Amen for that amazing mother, wife and friend, that’s for sure.

Proudly I watched my daughter play better than ever at our very first night soccer game. For a few minutes, she was completely alone at her end of the field under the lights, and it was then I remembered how we used to think she’d never play more than one year of soccer. How we worried about how well she’d adapt to everything the farther along in school we got. How much she would struggle with certain subjects. How well she’d fair socially and if she’d have friends. How maybe she’d completely withdraw and not participate in anything.

However, that’s not our Bea. No, not at all. She may feel alone sometimes in her head, but it’s her confident big heart, not my blue genes, that define her very being. I'm so grateful for that. Middle school and high school will be the challenges yet to come, and our entire family welcomes them, hearts wide open.