“Touchdowns and Take Aways on Grief”

I grew up with a Dad who played professional football. People used to ask- really? professional?

“Yes,” I would say, sensing that my response somehow surprised them but I didn’t know why. It takes a while before you realize that your family’s normal is not everyone else’s normal.

As a kid, I played soccer, volleyball, basketball, ran track, played t-ball, and was an avid swimmer. My Dad taught me a lot. He didn’t pressure me. It was my choice to play girls sports. He taught me how to pivet as point guard, how to get open, how to run a pic, give and go, and how to fake left and drive right under the basket.

I loved pushing my body, mind, and spirit to the max and bonded with my teammates. I liked eating orange slices at half time, calling plays, and occasionally skipping Bat Mitzvah class for tournaments. I liked how my mom and dad cheered me on from the sidelines, and sometimes my dad even coached.

At some point, I realized that people thought it was wierd that I was Jewish and playing sports. They asked if my dad was Jewish too. It seemed normal to me; that was all I knew. Being perceived as an anomaly made me appreciate diversity more. Plenty of people had unusual stories. Why isolate one family? Perhaps there was nostalgia with sports but clearly everybody was equal.