z-man

A year ago we went down to Ollie’s,
Loaded up on boards and pads,
Then went to that janky park in Tecumseh,
My first bad slam, coming off the half-pipe.
We snuck off to Ranney at night,
Under the cover of darkness,
Too embarrassed to show our faces,
Too scared to fail in front of anyone.
I’ve had some bad slams since then,
Learned how to ride my board again,
Even dropped in just before New Year’s,
But twisted my knee, lost my cojones.
Look how far we have come in just a year,
You finally riding out a carve,
Me just underneath the coping,
And Little E flirting with high school girls.
Each of us developing at our own pace,
Learning as we go, letting the stoke grow,
Checking out different parks when we can,
And we even checked out Danforth’s skate jam.
Kickturns in the bowl, cruising down the banks,
We’ve got a ways to go before we’re done,
But the biggest thing was just showing up,
And having the guts to try something new.
I wish your sister would go as well,
But all too often she’s the only girl,
I’m not gonna push it for now,
She schools us at everything else as it is.
Your little brother, a little thunderbolt,
There will be plenty of time for all of us,
To get our skate on, get our gnar on,
We’ll struggle just to keep up with him.
So for now he talks to the girls,
Plays with his toys and slides on his bum,
He can pull himself out of the bowl,
Four-year-old already 4 feet and 50 lbs.
You and I are so much alike,
Your mom likes to tell you otherwise,
I just want you to be all you can,
Live and love and experience life.
It makes me proud to see you skate,
Just the fact that you conquered fear,
Just the fact that you are still here,
Been sick and in the hospital for so long.
Spinal tap by the time you were five days old,
Kidneys shut down at the age of three,
Yearly biopsies, high doses of steroids,
Weekly blood draws and chest port by age five.
In kindergarten you started chemo,
Hair falling out in clumps, never cut before,
You started hiding it under your mattress,
Steroids packed on the pounds, doubled your weight.
All prepared to have the kidneys removed,
Waited for you to go on dialysis,
To go on the transplant list,
Your uncles offered us theirs.
I chopped off my thinning hair,
So you wouldn’t feel so all alone,
We ate hospital food one day out of three,
they saw me so much, thought I was an employee.
One day it just turned around,
Our prayers answered, everything changed,
Our monthly stays at the hospital ceased,
Can’t begin to tell you what that meant.
So this skateboard thing might seem quaint,
But for me it means so much more,
A chance for us to bond, to play in the sun,
A chance to quiet our minds and just be.
I tried meditation, tried karate,
Used to run five miles a day,
The only thing that seems to work,
Is riding on a seven-ply board.
So I give my son this gift,
Zen and the art of skateboarding,
To discover whatever it is inside,
To ride upon the waves of life.
The student will surpass the teacher,
It is only a matter of time,
When he finally lets go,
And releases the shredder inside.
His gift to me is simply his smile,
To see him be, and do, and live,
To push himself and to strive,
To hear life’s sweet song singing in his veins.
The rush of concrete past our feet,
The wind blowing through my sparsely covered head,
The sweat of achievement on my shirt,
The scabs of yesterday’s lessons on my knees.
When all his quiet and we’re alone,
He looks at me and says, “daddy . . .”
Doesn’t really matter what he says,
At that moment I know that I am blessed.