On December 9th, I grabbed a rebound, turned up court to run the break, and I fell down. My Achilles tendon, long nursed through bouts of tendonitis and many sore runs, just gave out.

Since that time, I have been limited physically – have spent two weeks on bed rest – and have had to completely slow down and take that very deep proverbial breath.

Many people who know me have commented as to this must have been so very hard for me to do. I live an active lifestyle: whether training for a new race, swimming across the pond, coaching a team through a practice, or trying to keep up with my children.  All of that had to stop.

And something magical happened.

Community happened.
Friends happened.
Life happened.

Meals began to arrive.  Friends dropped in and sat on my bed with me and spent hours just chatting and catching up.  Some friends that I hadn’t seen in over a year.  A year. There was so much to say, share, tell, and think about.

My children – who are constantly hungry – were sustained by the daily meals being delivered (still being delivered).  But on a more important level – much more – they have been witness to “Community”.  To an outpouring of love and meals and help – and so they are experiencing firsthand what it means for us to take care of each other.

It is perhaps one of the most important life lessons that we can teach them.  For wherever they go on in this life – no matter what happens to their friends or extended family, they will know what to do; how to help.  They will remember.

Thank you all for this lesson.  I could never have done it without you.

Every parent wants their child to grow up and know how important it is to care for their neighbor, their friend, the person in their community that needs help. But how to teach that?

I don’t wish a ruptured Achilles tendon on anyone.  It hurt a lot – and so did the surgery.  But I do wish that all of our collective children experience “Community”.  I like to think they get a little taste of this at CNS through daily parent helping.  Your child’s special day is special – but it also is giving every child a message that their classroom is an important place to be. Important enough to shift your schedule, take a personal day, or find a sitter for a younger sibling.

To nourish each other is something incredibly special and can take on so many forms. Thank you all for nourishing me and my family through these days of recovery.  I promise to pay it forward – and who knows, maybe one of my kids will even cook dinner for you one day?