Today was to be the day. Today was to be the first time I got my son out on ice skates with me, hockey sticks in hand. Like many fathers I too have just been waiting for the day when I could start playing my favorite sport with my little guy. For me it isn’t the dream of playing baseball in the backyard, or tossing the old pigskin, it’s hockey. Since my son started walking I have been waiting to get him on skates.
So I was excited today as I put my sons skates on him. That is until he took one step onto the ice and the waterworks started. “No I don’t want to! Take them off! I want to go home! I want to go home! I want to go home! I want to go home! I WANT TO GO HOME!
So after a few minutes of trying to get the boy to test out skating and a few sob stories we let him sit on the bench for a few minutes. It was here that another father sat down on the bench and said to my son the following.
“Wow you were doing great out there. How old are you?”
My son answered “3”.
“3, wow. You are doing really well. And you’re playing hockey already that is so cool.”
From that moment on it was different for my son. He looked up, dried the tears from his eyes and saw the other kids on the rink. Most a few years older than him but leaning just like he was.
We spent the next hour out on the ice, learning to skate, learning how to pass a puck, learning how to fall and get back up. He had a blast, and so did we.
So to that other dad, the one who has been in my skates, thank you. Thank’s for helping out. Thank’s for getting that what my son needed was someone else (besides his mom or dad) to think he was awesome for trying. I’ll look to pay it forward.