Moira Silva
On a recent Sunday morning, my sons and husband gathered around me, all eyes on my phone. Google had compiled images from 2020 into an unsolicited story. Warm with nostalgia, we were cast back.
This spring, I have found a new rite of passage. The game day car ride.
Sprinting up the field while coaching my younger son’s soccer practice, I felt my calf muscle snap.
Sports is a religion for countless fans and athletes. They look to the heavens for good weather and good luck.
My son Owen’s fourth grade teacher announces that it is “Drop Everything and Read Day.”
I never peeked. I just imagined there were about a dozen. Small but mighty. Sealed and frozen.