We live at the end of a long gravel lane, about one third of a mile long, back in the woods. It is not uncommon for my older boys to ask, when we turn onto the lane, if they can “race” me in the van. Of course, racing simply consists of just running ahead while I drive behind, but I figure it’s good exercise and fosters that competitive spirit since the point of the race is to see who gets home first.
It was only a month or so ago that Case started asking if he could run too.
I had to think about that one.
So today he ran.
He might have been behind his brothers, but when I remember his inability to run without falling, his inability to go over or around obstacles, I can’t get over what I see now.