I Miss Track

I decided to check out some other bloggers this morning to see what's out there and I came across someone who wrote..."I miss track."

You know, in all my life, I have never said those words. There are plenty of things I miss in my life. I miss my Dad, who passed away nearly ten years ago. I miss butter tarts. I miss watching the trees turn colours in the fall. But track?!?

I don't know anyone who has ever said that. Must not be a Jewish thing. I bet Jackie Mason could do an entire routine about track.

When I was growing up, there was a girl in my class in high school, Christine who eventually was on the Canadian Gymnast Team that went to the Olympics. That was nice. For her, I mean.

I did once ride a horse. From Day Camp. We all trekked out to Yakki Bush for the day and rode horses. I hated it.

I went skiing once too. Nice. Cost a lot of money to rent all that stuff and I spent the day trying not to make a fool out of myself and not break anything.

That doesn't mean that I'm not brave. I moved to Jerusalem. I got married. I had kids. That takes moxie, doesn't it?

Then I watched my three kids grow up. My oldest son became a paratrooper and one day all the parents were invited to the base to watch the kids jump. I have pictures of me clutching my heart and praying that the thing would open and my kid would land safely. As I looked closely at my pictures, I noticed that all the other moms looked just like me.

But then, when the kids were running up to us, proud as punch, we all put on our brave faces and told them how great they did. No one slept for a long time after Parents' Day at the army.

Then my daughter became a soldier. And was working with a special unit to catch 'would-be' stabbers who were walking our streets at the time. She was at the Kotel, the Wailing Wall, on duty the morning of the riots. It took eight hours before they could be evacuated and my daughter got a citation for bravery. No one slept for a long time after that.

And finally my baby. He joined intelligence and aside from the days when he travelled home and back to his base, I didn't worry. I wouldn't have worried at all except that he was travelling during the intifada where all the busses and trains were being blown up at the time.

Then came the day when my three soldiers were out of uniform. Yahoooo. Finished! It's over.

Track? I don't miss track.

I miss the good old days. You know, the good old days when the air was clean and sex was dirty.

Have a great day...stay safe...and thanks for dropping in.