Special Things to my Heart
A letter to Tammy....
(written by her dad on 1/31/09)

Sometimes it’s fun to remembers moments in our lives. Times that seems to be very special. That bring back emotional thoughts which are accompanied by smiles to the face and joy to the heart. Kind of like snapshots of great moments and endearing memories that hopefully will never blend into the unforgotten.

Things like sneaking across a dark street one night with a wheel barrel full of sod. Me and my best friend that night, Corporal Tammy. We hit the vacant field and started spreading the sod to cover a barren area. Suddenly a car turned onto the street next to our operation, bringing headlights that could expose our presence and endanger us. “Hit the ground” was commanded and the two infantry members lie flat on their stomachs, hiding from the advancing vehicle. I can still remember the words to this day of that brave corporal. “Dad, I know we can’t really get in trouble for this, but this is so much fun”. Courage and loyalty like this is unknown in today’s world.

I can still remember that brave soldier in other earlier missions. Once is a narrow alley way in southern California, trying to maneuver a two wheel vehicle without training wheels for the first time. The danger was much more serious in this undertaking. Often the coach would run along side the trainee and help create the illusion that operating such a vehicle was easy. But all who have experienced this right of passage know that the critical moment of truth has to be done alone. As the final push off was completed the coach fell behind and watched his student propel herself into the new frontier. A little wobble here and a jerk there and almost a complete stall, but alas her strong thighs began their powerful pushes and the pistons began their cycle to accelerate the vehicle to its intended destiny and the first flight of Tammara was on it’s way. The coach could now only observe. Full of amazement, of pride, and restraining tearful eyes; the teacher has completed his work and glows in the satisfaction of what has transpired. This has been, is now, and will always be enjoyed by generations for as long as there are wild bicycles to be tamed.

And who could forget the long and adventurous journeys down the fabled bumpy road. Riding down a street named Westchester to a “T” intersection, turning left on a road called Broadmoor and coming to the end of the road (perhaps the world). There were no more asphalt roads or sidewalks. No, nothing but the wilderness of uncharted fields of grass and a very rough dirt road. Staying in that wagon (or on that bike) was more challenging than any experiences of the early pioneers. Falling out and climbing back on was expected and required. Even stopping along the way and learning how to make and launch grass bombs was sometimes the only way to survive. Yes these were shared times with siblings, who all thought life was an adventurous dare, or it was nothing at all….

Or how about the night I get a phone call in my dorm room while working on my doctor’s degree in Utah. “Dad, we won the championship and I came off the bench to block some shots and played awesome” This in itself was wonderful news, but the underlying beauty is much more meaningful and satisfying. I first think, what am I doing a thousand miles away from my daughter’s senior year of excellence and having a night performance that demonstrated her skill and abilities that we all knew she possessed but didn’t necessarily get the fair chance to do it on a regular basis. Why wasn’t I there? Supporting her. But perhaps this is what made this moment even more sweet. The tenacity of such an athlete who rode the bench, knowing she was not getting the fairness that she deserved. This is what makes it so much more endearing. Showing the metal that she is made from by accepting such setbacks and still moving forward. This is what I was most inspired by, most proud of. This is the real lessons and victories in playing sports. This is what it is all about. Never quitting, taking what comes and making the best of it. Yes this is what I’ll remember much more than the scores, or victories, or awards. That true spirit that lies inside of each of us. This is the true victory, the true beauty, the true athlete, the true Tammy…..

Yes memories, the best investment we can make. There are so many more times and places to remember, but then again there are so many more nights still to come to recall such great times…..

To be continued