How do I love thee? Let me count the degrees.
I love thee to the depth the temperature
Can reach, when feeling in my toes and cheeks
has fled and left me leaden without heat.
I love thee most when least degrees there are,
For on those cold dark days what games do come–
Aye there’s the rub.
We shuffle in all bundled from the core
With coats, hats, scarves, with gloves, and mittens more–
As big around with poufy layers on
As I am tall beside your skated form.
Oh, to be warm!
Yet week on week we pack the hockey bag
Climb in the car, and to the rink we drag
All manner of layers, blankets, clothes
To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield (the warmth).
I was inspired by the suggestion to try a poem…and by a particularly cold early morning game today. Points if you can identify any of the various mentor texts represented here. Bonus points if you can spot where I inverted one of my mentor texts.
Being cold is quite possibly the thing I like least in the world.
So both my boys are hockey players.
Lots of things make the hockey life a hard one…long drives, long hours, early mornings, late nights, seeing your children hurt or injured (those are not the same thing). But for me, the cold is usually the hardest. 2/3 of the way through any game my toes start to ice up and the chill climbs up through my bones into my soul. On the days when the games are back to back, when hour three at the rink begins and the second game won’t end for another two…it would take an industrial, mammoth sized hand dryer blowing across my icy appendages to start to thaw me out.
So, Boys, always remember I love you both.