The rain this weekend has me remembering the conclusion of several youth soccer seasons of years past .... It could be weeks of beautiful Autumn conditions but that last day was always a preview of the onset of a Western Oregon winter. An all day affair of standing in the rain and wind. No hiding or protection from the elements. Long after everyone had departed for the warmth of indoors and dry clothing, still standing out there, with not so subtle hints of early evening darkness rapidly approaching, alone and gathering up wet program equipment. Picking up the personal belongings of others and the trash left behind. Soaked, shaking and chilled to the bone. Once home, unable to turn up the shower water to where it was hot enough. A deep chill that would be sensed for months afterwards. A sensation that can still be felt when I stop and remember those days. It's not a memory that I look back on fondly.
A parents expression of appreciation for your efforts often helped warm me up for a moment or two. The reaction to a child's smile would last a bit longer. But at the very end of those "rain event" days, all that remained was that chill, which became more difficult to bear with each year of age. And despite all my thoughts and promises to the inner voices of never again, it took the eventual elimination of the youth program to keep me from returning for more.
There was a group of us who accepted all this. I suppose it was dedication to a cause and all that. It had to be more than just a paycheck. I think we felt a bit of pride in this youth program that for years we helped to shape and carry out.
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