To All the Boys We’ve Loved Before,
Perhaps you’ve heard it said that a young coach’s kid has no shortage of older siblings. As a college baseball coach’s wife, my kids always talk about their 44 older brothers. We recently found ourselves in the throes of alumni weekend, and it occurred to my oldest daughter that she has many more than that.
Together, we watched our current team–many of whom we’d only just met a month prior–take on 22 of the “boys” (now well into their twenties) we’ve loved before. I quickly realized there’s much you young men ought to know about your place in our lives now that you no longer fit clearly and neatly into the 44.
These reflections found their way into this letter. Here are just some of the things you deserve to know:
The younger kids may have forgotten some of your names as the years have passed. Forgive them. It was half their lives ago. It doesn’t make you any less important to us. You should have heard them ask me your name and then tell me you’re one of their brothers too. Then you’d know how much you still mean to us all.
I cherish the opportunity to see you play again, and I try to hold space for the fact that this could be the last time I get to see you take the field. While I once saw you carrying the pressure of college athletics along with a passion for the game, the alumni weekend brings out the little kid who just loves to play ball. It’s an honor to witness the sheer excitement and joy with which you get to play. I hope our current players are taking notice and remembering what brought them to this stage in the first place.
Did you know that when you commit to coming back for alumni weekend, our family celebrates together, and we impatiently wait until we can see you? But even those of you who could not attend are deeply loved. All of you, near and far.
Although alumni weekend sparked these reflections, I cannot forget the many boys we loved before at other schools as well. Keeping in touch with you is harder because we don’t have a natural time and place to make a reunion happen, but when we do see you or hear from you, the sentiments are the same.
Seeing your smile. Giving you hugs. Hearing your stories. My heart overflows with joy when you tell me about your career and how you’re actively making the world a better place. Hope takes on a new meaning when I hear you say that things are hard sometimes, but you lean on your faith and press on to give your best. Behind my sunglasses, I shed some happy tears to hear you say these words. I knew my prayers for you were being answered.
We’re still your biggest cheerleaders. New job, engagement, marriage, new baby–we want to know so we can celebrate with you. But we want to know about the trials and tribulations, too. In those times when you most need the support, don’t forget we are here for that too. I remember how hard it was to see you hurting in the rough patch you faced here the first time around, and to learn you’re facing another one now makes my heart ache. Seeing your bravery in facing such a trial with tremendous strength still manages to warm my heart. Behind my sunglasses, I shed some tears of pain to hear you’re carrying such a weight once again when you are still so young and trying to figure this life out. I know my prayers for you will matter, but it’s all an uphill climb for now.
We always have room for you. There’s room for you at our dinner table when you find yourself in town for a visit. There’s room in our schedule to answer a phone call and hear your latest news and life updates. There’s room in our prayers for your hurts. There’s room in our hearts for you. Always.
Love,
The Coach’s Wife