Run, Andrew, Run!!

There was quite a build-up.

Daddy had Aaron and Sammy running laps at dusk,

practicing for the "big run" on Saturday morning 

(100 yard dash courtesy of Sammy's school). 

They raced from the neighbor's house to our mailbox,

from the mailbox to the garbage can,

and back to the neighbor's house. 

Several times. 

Their faces were determined; their feet were quick.

Andrew and I were the spectators and cheerleaders. 

Andrew couldn't run because he was
connected to his chemo tubes. 

He cycled around the driveway on his bike,

while I pushed the handle and wore his fluid-filled backpack.

We cheered "the brothers" on. 
And then I gave them the "winning isn't everything" speech.

I was trying to downplay John's excited hype over
how they were going to "WIN!" 

and reminded them that racing could still be fun, 

even if they lost. 

Even if they did not get a ribbon. 

(That's what moms say, right?)

Andrew was not interested in the race.  

He was just going to "play on the playground." 

Saturday, 8 am: 

After a long week of chemo, tubes,

constantly wet diapers, and threats of the "moorgency room"

(if the tubes were to come dislodged),  

I was able to remove Andrew's chemo tubes.  

Hooray!! 

An hour later we arrived at the park, ready for the big run.

I stayed in the car and put on my make-up 

while John took the boys and gave them one more pep talk. 

When I met up with them, all THREE were in blue. 

Ready to go. 

I immediately assumed that Andrew
would back out at the last second.

 I had already resolved that
"at least the money was going to the school,"

and at least "Andrew likes the shirt."

The races began.

Aaron ran first.  He got third!!

Sammy ran next (with considerably more competition). 

He wasn't as happy with his results.

:(

Poor buddy.

I was still sure that Andrew would back out. 

There was a long wait between the races.

I was sure Andrew would grow bored and run away to the playground.

 But when the loud speaker called for "three-year-old boys,"

 there he was. 

Fresh off chemo,

wearing his dragon hat,

feet on the starting line,

 and ready to GO!

His brothers were on the sidelines:

Daddy coached him one last time.

The race started. 

"Go Andrew, Go!!!" I screamed.

 His eyes immediately searched for me on the side-lines. 

(oops!)

 I was sure he was going to run straight towards me,

duck under the boundary tape,

and quit.

But he didn't.

He saw me.

He smiled.

He ran towards me,

and kept right on running

towards the finish line.

He was several feet behind the slowest runner.

But he kept running.

He was the last one across.

But he didn't care.

I was wiping my eyes

as the race volunteer took him to the medal table.

He did it!

He was so proud.

And then he ran to the playground.

He kept that medal around his neck the whole time.

That'll teach me.

Once again.

Never underestimate Andrew.

Never.

And

Winning is definitely NOT everything.