The Beginning

May 23, 2009

"Where is his father?" was the first thing the school owner said to me.

My eyes filled up. Not here. On the other side of the country, and I think maybe he prefers it that way.

He asked because on my son's very first day in TaeKwonDo class, he would only listen to female instructors. His particular favorite was the one he would eventually call his sister (though of course we didn't know that yet).

At the time I could see very little good about where I was. I can look back now with gratitude that it led me here, but that day I was just surviving. Confused, badly wounded, searching for a way to raise my son and make a life for us.

My son got his white belt that day. I had no idea that I would join him, or the nature of the journey we were just beginning. All I knew was that I needed help. I wanted something to give my bright, stubborn, rambunctious, charming little boy a physical outlet and some more discipline and focus.

I didn't know, as I stood in the back of the room and watched my son try (and mostly fail) to stand still and pay attention, that we would find a family here. And a goal, and a whole new life.