Christmas Cards

Christmas time is the only time I look forward to receiving mail.  Eleven months out of the year all I seem to get are bills and junk mail, but for one magical month, the mail is FUN.  I love receiving Christmas cards from friends and family and seeing how their families have grown and changed over the year. I also like to keep the cards for the year and pray over one of the families each week.  Then the next year I set those cards aside and begin again with the new cards I’ve received. 

About ten years ago I decided to start sending Christmas cards with pictures of our family on them.  We always sign the card from Karl, Laurel and the boys.  The first year I did it my grandfather called me in a full on panic thinking that Karl and me were crazy enough to adopt seven teenage boys.  I explained to him that we didn’t actually adopt them but we do consider them our own.  Each of those sweet boys over the years holds a special place in our hearts.  They are our family and our boys. 

Throughout the years, just like family dinners the upperclassmen teach the younger ones about family photos.  We do them twice a year, once on media day and then once during the season after a game.  The after game one seems to be the one we use for our Christmas card.  The boys line up and ask if this is the Christmas card picture.  If I say yes, then all of the sudden the uniforms get fixed, the hair gets a little straighter and the smiles get bigger.  It’s fun to see them so excited over the family Christmas card.

One year our team was marching through the playoffs and I just knew we were going to make it all the way to the state championship so I held off on the photo.  We lost in the quarter-finals on the last play of the game and there I stood with no photo.  I put a picture of just Karl and I on the card and boy did I hear about it. I got calls and comments from everyone about the boys not being on the card.  It had become a tradition and I messed it up.  Now I take the photo during the regular season just in case I need it. But, know that when we do make it to the state championship, I’ll be sending out New Year’s cards instead of Christmas cards.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, 

which is Christ the Lord.

Luke 2:11

From our family to yours Merry Christmas!

Cheering you on,
Laurel

The Last Supper a.k.a. Family Dinner

Each December when the season ends we have our boys over for dinner.  The rules are you must play safety and you must be on varsity.  This may sound harsh but for our boys it’s a goal.  They aim to play safety on the varsity level and they look forward to dinner at our house.  I was once asked by another player how come his brother got to come to dinner and he never did.  I said “Daniel, it’s simple. You play corner and Jacob plays safety. Therefore, he gets to come and you don’t.”  He laughed and said, yeah, you’re right.

At dinner, the menu never seems to vary.  I let the seniors vote and each time they vote for the same meal: poppy seed chicken, green bean bundles, scalloped potatoes and sopapilla cheesecake for dessert. I tell the boys that I can cook other things and that I’m actually a pretty good cook.  Each time I’m met with “Why Mrs. Pointer, why would you make something else, why?” I laugh and say okay. You want it. You got it.

On Tuesday night we held the annual end of season dinner.  Eight boys eagerly arrived at my house. They arrived with presents in hand including flowers, a sweet little nativity and a football ornament for the Christmas tree.  I love when they bring the flowers.  I really loved when Chris, a senior, turned to one of the juniors and reminded him that next year he was to arrive with flowers when they came to dinner.  These boys have been trained well by their mothers. They are all so polite and so sweet and I look forward to having them in our home.

Dinner on Tuesday had me laughing from the moment they lined up to fill their plates.  Two of the seniors were first in line and they helped themselves to servings that could feed three or four normal people.  I asked why they were taking so much and they replied because it’s our last supper.  I tried to explain that they were just graduating and not dying but I was met with some resistance. One of the sophomores offered up that they could simply come home after finals in college and join us again for dinner.  At that rate I’ll be making poppy seed chicken for 20 plus. 

One player that graduated several years ago still asks about the “life changing” green beans when he is home on break.  I love cooking for these boys. Even the pickiest kid I’ve ever met seems to find enough to eat at this dinner.  As he was going through the line I could hear the boy behind him saying “Just try it.  If you don’t like it, I’ll eat yours and mine both.”  He ate most of it without help from his neighbor.  These boys make me feel like I’m the world’s greatest chef and all I’m doing is making chicken and green beans.

The dinner conversation always includes breaking down the past season and looking forward to next year.  The seniors start referring to the other boys as “y’all” and “next year’s team.”  I try to remind them that once a Cowboy always a Cowboy (or wherever we are at the time) and they quickly remind me that to talk in the present as “we” makes them sad. Once again I say, you’re graduating not dying and I’m met again with “this is our last supper.”

I love these boys and as I watch them grow up and graduate I too, get a little sad. But I always remind them that it’s still family dinner and not their last supper.  They will always be our boys. They will always be family and they are always welcome for family dinner.  It’s never really their last supper.

Cheering you on,
Laurel

When it all Suddenly Stops

It’s been a couple of weeks since my last post.  It’s taken that long to let the events all sink in and get to a point where I could express it all.  Two weeks ago today we were in AT&T Stadium (Cowboys Stadium) and we were within moments of a huge victory.  We went into the game as the underdogs to most of the world, but our team and coaches knew we could win it.  We knew that this was our year and that we were going to march our way to the state championship.

We were less than 40 seconds away from upsetting the team that had knocked us out of the playoffs the previous year.  We could smell victory. Our fans were ecstatic and there was a hush on the other side of the field.  Then it happened.  The tide shifted and they scored with just seconds to go to take the lead. We lost by four points.  We stood there numb and speechless and there was nothing we could do.  We couldn't even get to our coaches and our boys and console them or hug them.  The next two teams were already taking the field for their game.  We simply had to wave from the stands and try to express our love and consolation as we were asked to exit so the next set of fans could come into the stands.

By the time my coach got home. He was tired, frustrated and still in a bit of shock. You see, we had been this close before just a couple of years ago and literally lost on the last play of the game.  Here we sat revisiting that moment all over again.  It seemed surreal, but yet, that’s part of football.  It only takes a second to change everything.  We managed to go to dinner but there was little conversation. There wasn't a lot you could say other than I’m sorry.  My coach scrolled through the Twitter feed of the game to analyze every play.  He spent time texting his players to make sure they were okay and to let them know how much he loved and respected each and every one of them.  We both received texts from players and parents and we responded back to them.  It was the best way to start the recovery process from the pain and frustration we were feeling.

If you’re reading this and questioning the words recovery and pain, you’re not alone and you’re probably not that tied into sports.  If you understand those words then you get it. You understand what it means the season to just suddenly stop.  You get that there is a void in your week where practice should be. Your coach is now home way earlier than is to be expected at night and that your life as you've known it for the past few months, suddenly and without notice takes a different shift.

Throughout the past couple of weeks several friends and community members have remarked to us that we must be “relieved that the season is over” or that I must be “excited that my coach is home.”  Neither could be further from the truth.  My coach and I both try to explain, that no we are not happy or relieved.  We were stopped short of our goal. We are going to miss time with our seniors and our players.  All we wanted for Christmas was a state championship.  I tried to explain to one friend when he said “you must be relieved that it’s all over”, that in his world that would be me like me saying to him, “you must be relieved that you almost closed that deal, but you didn't quite make it and your competing vendor won the contract .”  He just looked at me like I was a bit crazy.

So it’s been a couple of weeks and playoffs are going on without us. We are now cheering on our friends and fellow coaches that are still in the hunt for that state championship. We are also still working on letting the pain and frustration of a season stopped short go away. The Christmas decorations are up and the world is continuing to move ahead. My coach has already started the conversations with his head coach and other coaches about personnel for next season and what off-season has in store for them.  Life moves and so must we. Our boys are coming to dinner this week and I can’t wait to have them all around my dining room table as we talk and laugh about the past season. I’m excited to hear their perspective on the season.  I’m also sad that it will be the last time we gather with this group of seniors as part of our family, but more on that next week.

Cheering you on,
Laurel