A few weeks ago, I made it to one of Liam's hockey practices for the first time in a couple of weeks. Chad and Grampa Bruce were already there watching him. I searched the ice for him and had trouble picking him out of the crowd of identically-dressed little skaters. "Where is he?" I asked Chad.
When Chad pointed him out, I could hardly believe it. He was skating so, so fast. I mean, it's all relative, right? He was skating so much faster than I had ever seen him skate before. He was handling a puck. He was weaving in and out of cones. In the three sessions I hadn't seen, his skill had markedly improved.
And so I felt bad for him this past Saturday, when we took him back to hockey for the first time after missing two lessons on account of his illness. Two lessons is a lot of time to lose. He was noticeably slower this time, more tentative and unsure of himself. He had lost a bit of what he'd gained and of course, the other kids had gained more.He was happy to be back though, and no doubt he'll be back up to speed in no time. Hopefully there aren't any more unforseen absences in our future. I think we should be OK until the Christmas craziness sets in.
(Liam gives one of his trademark shy-smiles after catching Grampa's eye.)
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