“The Sky’s the Limit.”

These are the tennis courts at the local high school where my son used to play tennis when he was a boy.

Now he is a man–consumed with the game of life–finding his place in the chaos and self-determined meaning of who he is and where he is going. I wrote to him some years back–just after he left home for college–that his life now was all about potential–what could be–what might be.

That remains true–he has decades of search and struggle before him–only the past offers some suggestion of relative clarity. Whenever I pass these courts at sunset I think of these things.

I think too how grateful I am for my son–to have had the honor of helping to raise him and set him on his path–into the shining new day of all he is capable of. When I look up at the expanse of heaven above these courts–I smile, I think of my son and I’m reminded of that old cliche’—”The sky’s the limit.”

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