I am here to tell you when a Brad Bruhn from Cortland or a Jon Egan from Roger Williams, or a Lonnie Morris from Johnson and Whales or a Shaun Lally from Muhlenberg or a Dean Zenie from Mount St. Vincent or a Joe Patrovich from LIU Post comes calling inquiring about your services to wrestle for their DII or DIII programs, to listen.
They are good people.
Perhaps the biggest pride I take in having wrestled is that I introduced the sport to my son.
The devastation, heartache, and pain were as you may imagine, unfathomable for us all, but I worried the most about my seven-year-old baby boy Mookie.
We hit a few tournaments, and he begged to go to more, but I wasn’t sure how deep I wanted him to get involved with a sport that failed me.
Wrestling is all about sacrifice.
It’s about giving up something you truly value, to hopefully get something that you value even more in return.
I have learned, at times I am part of my own journey and at other times I am here to help others with their journey.
The only part I haven’t figured out as of yet, is, which is happening, when.
I lost my dad suddenly, my freshmen year right after counties.
In the game of life, I would call today a win.
I use to think it was tough being a wrestler’s girlfriend. But I was wrong.
Being a wrestler’s mom is tougher, and I love it.
Thirty-three years later, what we understood now, that we didn’t quite comprehend then was it was the losses and not the wins that best prepared us for life. They taught us how to handle and come back from adversity.