The Regatta

As wonderful as it was to see Tony and David, the weather was horrendous. Rain, rain and more rain! My mom made the trip with us while we left my dad behind to nurse a cold. Again we forgot the binoculars, but our feet remained dry until David's boat went off in the midst of the last torrential downpour. His coach, with the up most graciousness, allowed David an early release so we could grab a quick dinner before we headed in different directions, giving us a precious time with our sons to catch up and sync our calendars.

A round trip from Charlotte to Oak Ridge in 24 hours gives you time to reflect. Images of driving Joe to McCallie, David's regattas and Tony's dive meets filled my head. I remembered his anticipation, wanting to be a normal teenager and be with his friends. Sometimes he was chatty, but the real routine was solemn quietness followed by a tearful trip home.

His Chapel talk in September 2009 was his final visit to McCallie and as we drove back to Charlotte, with seven oxygen tanks in my back seat, we discussed his funeral service as we both tried to be brave. And this I will never forget. I glanced over to my son, only able to breathe with the help of oxygen, squeezed his hand and promised he would never be alone.