How do I communicate the primal ecstasy invoked by the roar of the crowd in Tiger Stadium? The very building in which my grandfather lived 50 years before; lights blaring against the backdrop of thick night sky, the humidity of the marsh filling my lungs, adrenaline and rage coursing through my veins as I attempt to break my opponent’s body and will?
How do I make you understand the novel joy of my daughter’s first roller coaster, The Ladybug, in New Orleans? A wild smile plastered on her face, the grazing warmth of Louisiana spring on my skin, my father looking on while he held my other child in his arms, cheering for us?
How do I explain what my heart feels when I close my eyes and see my wife smiling back at me, beaming in the mardi gras sunshine, a cacophony of music, color and joy swirling behind, the oak dappled sunlight shimmering on her neck of soon to be forgotten beads and her sunglasses making her look so cool?
How can I make you understand the slice of heaven that is a perfect summer Friday night, drinking margaritas at Superior Grill? Good friends, deep in their cups, talking about things big and small?
The swirl of the smoke in the air at Don Juans? The dream of the American melting pot made manifest; people young, old, male, female, black, white, rich, and poor all gathered together to enjoy a fine smoke and some Tiger football?
How will I ever be able to have you REALLY COMPREHEND what happens to my soul when I dive into the waters of Toledo Bend? As I feel myself soar? The generations of family who came before me in these beautiful lands around me?
The responsibility is overwhelming and maybe therein lies the sentiment. I am overwhelmed, overcome, overpowered. I feel all the emotions at once and I feel them in the extreme.
I am sad, I am nervous, I am excited, I am happy, I am scared, I am confident, but most of all, I am grateful.
Grateful to have family and friends. Grateful to my Off the Bench family and all of its wonderful and weird iterations. Grateful to everyone who chose to spend their mornings with us through the years. Grateful to all those who afforded me opportunities I did not deserve. Grateful to the coaches and educators who have taught my children and I so much. Grateful to my incredible wife for working through this life together. Grateful to Louisiana.
This beautiful state will forever be my home. The land of my forefathers, birthplace of my children, and where I will be laid to rest. I may leave Louisiana for a bit, but Louisiana will never leave me. And so, for now, it appears that my road leads elsewhere…
So while I follow, let me leave you with the words of a wise old hobbit named Bilbo:
“The Road goes ever on and on.
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.”
Thank you, when our paths meet again, let’s share a margarita.
As a note, this is how I want to be remembered FULL SEND.
