Markus was born, and with it, adventure.
He, like most 16-year-olds, is first and foremost an explorer. A wandering wonderer, a doting daytripper. Last weekend he runs over to show me 4 bruises from his first scrimmage game of the season in Bountiful. “Right here Mom, do you see Mom, just here above the knee of my left leg?”
And so, like mothers have the bias to do, we shift. We flex a bit, first in the ribs to make room for their head, next in our days to make room for their whims. He bikes. He climbs. He catches pucks and snowflakes. He muddies rain boots and chase cars and name clouds.
He even hikes, would you believe it?
I’d love to say that I wouldn’t have it any other way, but in truth, if left to my own devices I’m far more likely to be found on the bench watching him in person. But I do know this: a child’s inherent love for adventure is a gift to encourage, both in words and deed. So while he's at his first NAPHL tournament with his team this weekend, I'm right there cheering for him (on Hockey TV).
