Tate is feeling much better. I can tell.
The doctor, yesterday morning, said pretty much exactly what I expected. The incisions are all healing just fine and he is 'released' to do whatever he feels like doing.
Tate: Well, I'm sure I'll feel fine to play in my soccer game Saturday, but I don't think I should go to practice tonight. I'll just go to practice on Thursday and then the game Saturday.
Me: Nice try, buddy. But you haven't practiced with your team for two weeks. If you want to play on Saturday, you need to go to both practices.
Tate: (Silent. Pondering that.) I'm not sure I'll be able to do everything at practice.
Me: That's fine. Coach Mark knows. I'll go with you. Just do what you can. If you're tired or hurting, come rest.
Tate: (Sighing. Thinking, no doubt, about his brothers at home playing with pirate Legos.) All right, Mom.
So we get to soccer. Coach Mark is very attentive and concerned for Tate's well-being. I see the boys running some laps and Tate is keeping up just fine.
Then we realize that this practice is going to be a scrimmage against the other neighborhood team. You know, like the cross-town rivals having a football game. And these two teams played last Saturday and Tate's team lost, 5-1.
Suddenly, Tate was very motivated. He didn't have the bursts of speed to run down the faster players, but he does a good job of 'reading' the field and anticipating where the play might go. He was great :0) And every time he subbed out he'd grab his water and a minute later be waving at the coach, "I'm ready to go back in, Coach!"
Yeah. I think he's back.
And they won this scrimmage, 5-4.
And then, the icing on the cake.
I reminded Tate to ask his coach for a game jersey, since he was in the hospital when they were handed out. There was one left, in the coach's bag, and to Tate's surprise and joy, it was his favorite number - 9.
As we drove out of the parking lot, "Mom! It's a miracle! This is from God!"
Not sure about the "miracle" part, I said, "Well, Tate, God is watching even the little details that are special to you."
"Yeah, Mom. I guess it might not actually be a miracle, because a miracle would be more..." (searching for a word), "splendiferous."