My Olympic Hangover
I did everything and yet I didn’t do enough.
Starting on February 07th we made our first trek to Vancouver to see what will be set up for the event.
And from that point we kept going and going and going. We walked and line up and walked and lined up and walked some more.
I cried for the Georgian Luger who died and I cried with the teams that won the gold. From lighting the flame to the raising of the Beavers, I wanted to breathe it ALL in.
What I will remember the most would be the faces of people in the crowds. I wish I could have taken pictures of all those faces. I saw such emotion. I watched faces as they approached the Olympic flame and they were in such awe. They were from all walks of life; young and old. I heard all languages too… Slavic, French, German and Sign!
After the Canadian Men’s hockey team rocked our world and took the gold medal, I donned my red mittens and tied on my team Canada scarf for one last time this winter and went out to walk the dog before the closing ceremonies began.
What I heard and what I saw where the epitome of Canadian spirit and culture. From my quiet neighborhood, I heard echoes of car horns honking in excitement from blocks away. But what made me really swell up with Canadian pride was seeing the children… on two separate blocks… outside playing road hockey. Could they be our future Olympic athletes? The inspiration they got from the Winter Games was enough to pick up their hockey sticks and find the goal net in the garage and to say, “I believe”.
Now, life as I remember it will resume. It’s time to get back into my cozy little rut.
