He was 5 years old and couldn’t walk on ice let alone tie his skates or hold a stick. He wasn’t the only nor the first. I wasn’t interested in watching my kid get hurt in the game nor was I interested in those 6 am hockey practise, sitting in a cold area not knowing a soul or even the game.
After a few rounds on the ice, learning how to get up from a fall, how to balance and how to move, he changed and without expecting it, I started to as well. Every early morning wasn’t a struggle for him to get up nor did it ever feel like a chore to take him to a game. All of a sudden, I wasn't just a spectator, I started to become fully immersed in the community.
When I use the term community, it’s not just that. It’s more. Your second family. Where you meet other’s that have the same desire for their children. Have fun and learn about team work. You develop faith in others, trust in coaches and start to let your child grow on their own with someone else’s guidance. Early morning coffee’s, late night games and many miles on the gas tank become part of life.
Years went by from Pre-novice, to Novice, then Atom, followed by Peewee and now Bantam. 8 years in total and not a moment has gone by that I regret sitting in an arena filled with other parents cheering their kids, the team and the game. Sure there have been moments where i’ve disagreed with decisions made by ref’s but i’ve respected them.
This child I have who has taken me 8 years into hockey, where I’ve spent
endless hours in an arena, on coffee, for equipment, year end parties, parent and player get togethers had taught me more than any hockey mum that is starting out could imagine. I wouldn’t trade these years for anything in the world.
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