Living The Dream by: Dr.Rod Kirk

I was a ten year old boy once and when I went to bed dreamed of the same things my 10 year old son does today. When I was growing up I would think of playing for the Montreal Canadiens. I grew up in Montreal so it was never even a remote thought to play for any other team. Like millions of children before us and all those who will follow, that one day they too will hopefully don their favorite team jersey.I went into my son’s room to kiss him goodnight and just as I was leaving he said “dad can ask you a question?” “Sure son” I said.  He said it was an important one so I should get comfortable. Sure I thought to myself, I haven’t seen this one before.  It was a perfect parent ‘sceptical moment’.  That’s what I like to call those moments, when you think your children are trying to pull the ‘wool over your eyes.’  If stalling your bed time was an art my son would be Picasso.  My son is the champ. If there was an Olympic gold medal handed out to the best bed time staler my son would be in training for the upcoming Olympics. With my keen spider senses tingling I settled in at the edge of his bed.  I was alert and aware of the upcoming dual between staler and referee.  Tonight I was poised to foil his attempt for an additional 10 minutes.  Tonight he would be unable to engage me in a conversation of insight and philosophical jargon.  Tonight, I will be victorious not just for me but all parents and their bed time routines.   I started to sense my son’s level of importance to the question.  But, I knew I needed to stay on task if I were to foil his attempt of gaining precious awake time.   I was strong that day nothing he could ask me would penetrate my purpose tonight.  “Dad, what’s the probability of me making the NHL?” he askedThe master of stalling snookered me again by.  He hit me with two of the things I love most.  Two items I generally have no defence for.  My son’s wonderful boy innocence’s and hockey.Who was I to shatter the dreams of my son. As a player who wriggled his way up the ranks I knew perfectly well what my sons probability of making the NHL.  But, who am I to shatter his dreams. If he were 17 years old and he told me he wanted to be a Lawyer, Teacher or a Restaurant Owner I would probably do whatever I could do to support him.So how do you support a mere sparkle in young boy?  It was the very same glimmer that I once possessed.  I thought for a moment while I rubbed his back.  “Son,” I said “the great things about dreams are they belong to you, they are real to you and I am glad you have them.”  But, I knew from similar conversations that this answer would not be adequate enough.  The only way I could leave this conversation and keep his dream a probability to him was this.  “Fraser” I said,  “when I was ten, if someone asked me what I thought the probability of having the life I have today, with my extraordinary and beautiful wife, two amazing children, a marvellous career,  live in the home I do and be surrounded by wonderful family and great friends, I wouldn’t have believed them. So Fraser dreams do come true you just have to pick them.”  “Thanks Dad.” He said. “Your welcome, now stop stalling and get some sleep.”  (I couldn’t resist the stalling part) I leaned over and gave him another kiss on the forehead, pulled up his Montreal Canadiens blanket and tucked him in, “Sweet Dreams buddy.”

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