I see you. I read your posts. I hear your frustrations.
After 32 years of the coach's wife life, I remember. I know. My coach is my favorite over-grown eighth grader.
I have raised kids from breakfast to bed alone on a string of nights.
I have prayed to hear the garage door open.
I have hated the sport and resented everything my man chose before he chose us.
I believe in the sanctity of marriage, the importance of family, and the undeniable, emphatic significance of a present father - but let me ask you this:
With whom did you fall in love?
Why do you love him?
What about his character draws you to him?
What about him, did you think - "I just don't want to do life without him."
Now - when you are not blitzed, tired, or done with a capital D - ask yourself: "Is my coach any of those things without the sport he pours himself into?"
If I could go back and tell my 27-year-old young mother self one piece of solid hindsight 20-20 vision - it would be this:
"Have zero expectations during the season except those you have specifically discussed - and only give those you have specifically discussed a 50% chance of coming to fruition."
Football is a fickle, fickle mistress, and perhaps the hardcourt and wrestling mats resemble her. I know baseball does.
Competing with football (or insert your sport) sets you up for loss. Give her what you have after you have cared for those you love, and then wish her well, pray for her success, and save your energy and emotion for your circle of influence.
Love your coach. Love what he loves. Be his biggest fan. Pick up the chalk and create your own game plan.
Drive your kids up for a picnic dinner in the parking lot or the coaching office.
Meet Dad in the parking lot before bedtime so his babies can say goodnight.
Relish the big boys that love your babies, as well as the other families from the team.
Plan a date night on the couch or in the oversized chair at 9 pm on Wednesday nights - just you and coach and whatever you stream or sit there and laugh at Instagram reels - just your coach and you.
When you finally have him home - you hold the chalk. You can create intimate, unforgettable, foundational moments or fill them with grief, regret, complaining, and dismay. You hold the chalk.
Ruth 1:16-17 But Ruth replied, "Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God my God.
One Who Has Gone Before You