But if you try sometimes you just might find

by Amy Turn Sharp



Finn started soccer last night. Joe and his pal Will are coaching the team. It was a night we looked forward to for a long time. Finn could not stop talking about soccer and his team and the majestic wonder of it all. I feel like he is more like me than I want him to be. Sometimes I think Finn pumps up something in his mind to such a high power that it cannot ever measure up in reality. He is like me- trying to get directly to the denouement of a situation without unraveling and experimenting with the complexity of it all- without a true catharsis.

It could have been all the sugar at the birthday party prior or the little sleep or the sharing of his dad or any number of conditions that made him weep and cry and act more like a baby than a big boy across that massive soccer field last night. It could have been anything but it really embarrassed me. It broke me down a little in front of all the other families I think.

I had told my good friend Angie as we sat on the blanket in the field prior to the practice that I thought she was type A in a good way and she replied quite quickly that she thought I was rather type A as well. I think I might have huffed for a minute but then I realized that she was most likely correct in her assumption. But I wasn't always like this.

I wish she would have known me before I lost all my invincible skin and before I had kids. I hope that all my old friends can still squint there eyes and see me unafraid and charging at life. Those days are really far away sometimes. Days when not much would shake me or get me down. Days when problems were like math- not real. Days when I knew exactly who I wasn't. Days when I would think nothing of smoking a joint or spending the whole day writing one perfect poem. Days when I really didn't care what others thought. Like at all. I keep writing affirmations on my chalkboard, but they are not working.
Is there a procedure to remove this type A lesion? Anyone? Anyone?