So today this happened:
I became a cheerleader. As far as I’m concerned, I’m doing the coolest thing I have ever wanted to do: I’m working out in the seriously coolest way possible, I’m making new friends (count ’em: three) and I’m doing something that is uniquely and unusually only about me.
That last piece was a bit of a surprise that hit me on my drive home tonight. I am absolutely of the believe that a life well-lived is one that has been in service to others. I live by that. My education, my career, my volunteerism are all done in service to others. And then there is cheer, which is not in service to anyone. It’s all about me.
Frankly, I like saying I’m a cheerleader. Anyone who has spoken with me in the last month has heard me say it. I love saying it and I love watching people’s reactions. But it’s not just enough to call myself a cheerleader. I want to be a good one. I’m not the oldest cheerleader in the province, so that’s a good thing, but I’m very close to it. That’s still fine. I don’t intend to have an age cap and I sure as heck have no plans to have a health cap.
Something special also happened tonight. My daughter came to watch me. For twenty-two years, I’ve driven her to class, been a La Leche League Leader, volunteered as her Girl Guide Guider, tied her skates, sat in the rain watching her play baseball, and here I am, many years later, with my little girl sitting on the bench getting a thumbs up from her.
I’m so grateful for the fun of this new sport. Grateful for the encouragement. Grateful for the other parents who are also there to make sure we have a blast!