He Told His Dad First
He didn't tell me.....
The coach called and asked him to come back to Junior A for a month. Just to help them push for playoffs. He can keep up with his college classes online.
He told his dad.
Then he told me later, casually. Like it wasn’t something that could rattle me.
And I knew exactly why.
Because he knows I’m the one who fought for college.
I’m the one who pushed for steady, normalcy. For something that looked like a real life beyond the rink.
He gave me that.
He got accepted to college and signed up for classes. He was recruited to play college hockey for their team- that had one of the best seasons in program history. He has a core group of good buddies there, boys he already battled with in high-level Junior A. They’ve had fun. They’ve built something that all hockey players do-a brotherhood.
He didn’t have the same pressure.
He wasn’t looking over his shoulder every day.
He wasn’t waiting for a trade.
The adjustment to college life was hard for him- very hard, but he was doing it.
And yet……… he doesn’t love it.
He loves hockey.
And when he talks about this playoff push, I hear something different in his voice. Something alive.
And here’s the part that I hate to admit:
I’m scared he loves hockey more than he’ll ever love the life that’s supposed to come after it.
I’m scared that when hockey ends, and it will, he’s going to feel lost.
I’m scared that he’s defining who he is so tightly to the game that when it’s gone, he won’t know who he is without it.
College felt like the beginning of him becoming more than just a hockey player.
Junior feels like doubling down on it.
And I don’t know if I’m strong enough to watch that.
When he told me, I kept it together. Asked the questions. I talked to him about how he was going to keep up with school, etc. He had it all figured out.
Then I went somewhere quiet and cried. I didn’t just cry for a little bit-I cried and cried.
I cried because I realized my son was careful with me. He softened it. He into it. He told his dad first because he knew I would feel it too deeply.
And I hate that.
I never wanted to be the mom whose fear sits in the room with his dreams.
But I also can’t pretend I don’t have fear.
I have watched this sport take everything from some boys. Identity. Confidence. Direction.
He loves it so much.
And I’m terrified that loving something that much can leave you empty when it’s over.
So yes, of course, I’m proud he’s wanted.
Yes , I know it’s an opportunity.
But underneath all of that?
I’m scared he’s choosing the version of life that keeps him a hockey playe instead of becoming the man he’ll have to be when the skates come off for good.
That’s what I cried about.
Not Canada.
Not playoffs.
The someday when the game ends and I pray he knows who he is without it.