This is a great sports metaphor for life in general. I think of the many things I have tried to teach my children from spelling, to love of nature, to love of self. And I am satisfied that since they are now "out of the house" I have done my bit. But every once in a while reality gives us a little slap in the face to wake us up.
My last sizeable conversation with my daughter was in the car, on the way back to her apartment. I mentioned some obscure topic, thinking that my now 23-year-old daughter could learn one more thing. She interrupted the "teaching moment" to inform me that she had learned this thing a long time ago and that not all of her knowledge comes from me. This I knew. But I was taken aback momentarily by the reality of having someone respond to the implied "Stop me if you've heard this before," clause which I hide in the fine print of every one of my verbal comments. So she stopped me, exercising her rights in the fine print, and by so doing created a new view of the world for me.
That view of the world is one where, having passed the baton, I, the runner, am no longer necessary to the race proper. And I must find another reason to stay on the track and keep running. Since I have no plans to stop running, much less walk over to the sidelines and collapse, I have taken up the idea of creating this blog. (Her blog is prettier, but I have thirty more years experience to draw upon for material.)
As with all metaphors, this one has its limits. After all, why should any metaphor for life be applicable in all cases? When we hand off our baton to our children there is still more race to run.
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