Sharee's Reflection

Hi everyone. This is Sharee, and I just wanted to share with you a reflection a wrote about the Olympic Trials my family was able to attend a week ago. This was not originally meant for the Blog but just for myself, however, my mom read it and said I should share it with others, so here it is. Its quite personal, but I'm happy to have you all read it. Sorry for its length...like I said, it wasn't for the Blog so its a bit long. I hope you enjoy it and find yourself reading to the end. It really is worth your time.

"The U.S. Olympic Trials: A track meet for the most trained, most skilled, most talented and gifted athletes in the nation. A race between the World Champion, the accomplished Olympian, the World Record Holder, the Trained Professional. Some 10 years of practice boiled down to ONE race. The opportunity merely a distant dream to most athletes in the nation, even the world. And I was there! Not for myself, but for my beloved friend; for my hero; for my brother; for Jon Rankin.

My Mom, Dad, Dan and I drove up after a family reunion, and yet to have a reunion of another family, a different kind of family. A reunion with the Rankins—with Mama Penelope, Papa John, Wesley, Jon-Jon, and Kimiko. I was so excited to see them when I found out we would be heading up for the race, but my excitement was never greater than the moment I saw their smiling faces again. I didn’t realize how large a piece of me I had left with them until I had them all around me again. I remembered what I’ve been missing! The unending hugs, the hilarious jokes, the sarcasm, the tears stomach aches and cheek cramps of laughter, the whole package.

That last day soon came, Jon’s final race, the race he had been working for even since high school. We all made it into the stadium, miraculously. We each had the Team Rankin t-shirts, the awesome Jon-Jon pins, the necessary free Nike water bottles, the HUGE smiles and of course the shaky hands. The 8 of us sat in 2 rows of a small section of the never-ending bleachers. There was a crowd like I had never seen before! Suddenly all the memories of Monte Vista track meets flooded through my mind and I felt so at home watching track again. I followed the Triple-Jump, the Javelin Toss, and the High-Jump, but all I could think about was the race, the 1500m. That quick pace of a race, just shy of a mile and lasting only a mere 3 minutes and 42 seconds. I couldn’t wait to see my brother do what he loves to do, I couldn’t wait to see him run!

Finally! 5:47pm and they all come jogging out on the track. If only there was a photo of our 8 faces, just lit up with joy and excitement. This was it! We all took a deep breath in anxiousness and waited as the rambunctious crowd suddenly became silent. The athletes lined up and took their mark. Then came the gunshot, and they were off! The 12 fastest milers in the nation! The crowd grew wild as each of some 22 thousand present cheered for each one of the 12 potential Olympians. And our family? We all jumped up and down and screamed at the top of our lungs for our son and brother of course! This was the fastest race I’ve ever seen! We all cheered our hearts out, and I felt just so encompassed by the whole ordeal. It was so thrilling! No account can give description the intensity of the field at that time. I remember cheering as Jon ran by, calling his name and shouting for him, wishing only the very best of luck for my very deserving brother. As the time passed the crowd got louder, the runners ran faster, the whole scene was chaos! Then at the brink of exhaustion, when the screams in my ears were at the max and time itself felt as though it was being pulled away, that the seconds flew by at double-time—suddenly the noise ceased. The time slowed even as though it had come to a halt. I was finally able to breathe a simple breath. And when it seemed as though the moments were slipping away, I was suddenly able to soak each one in. Things went by in slow motion.

I remember certain moments of my life that seemed to go in slow motion, but never quite like this. One moment I was screaming with the crowd, cheering so loud I hurt my own ears, when suddenly the next it all stopped. Everything just suddenly became silent. I had been able to tune everything out and just look around. The crowd was still wildly clapping and yelling and jumping. Everything continued on, but rather slowly. I was just amazed for a moment, caught in amusement of the crowd and the athletes, the stadium and the time clock. Soon I caught hold of my thoughts. I looked around again, but much slower this time. I saw the runners, I saw the grand stands, I then panned around to see those around me, and then my own family—cheering and screaming and smiling just SO big, focusing on nothing but the Jon Rankin we came for. Finally I looked once more down at my brother. This was no more a race for a spot on some team. This race was the accomplishment of a dream, an incredible goal. It was then that I saw the whole picture, for the very first time! I had my family, all my brothers and parents and those who love me unconditionally. I saw, almost as an outside viewer, my family united in support of one of our own. I realized, I was living the dream! The American dream, the dream of any child of God. The dream of a family. Here we had a peach-skinned Anglo-Saxon family with a loving mother, father, sister and brothers, and a chocolate-skinned Jamaican family with a loving mother, father, sister and brothers. We were two separate families, different in color, lineage, religion and hometown. And yet we were NOT. Not at all. We were ONE family—one in purpose, one in mind, one in faith and desire, in hope and prayer, one family in love and support. We were ONE family, putting our whole hearts out there for a person we love so much, who has worked harder than anyone I know to achieve a goal, who has gone further with his ambitions than most people in the world, who has used his talent to help many lives. This was HIS day, HIS race, HIS moment to shine. And he did! He made us all so very proud, and I know we all feel so very blessed to be a part of his incredibly gifted life, as well at that successful race.

As I stood there, a 5’5” scrawny blonde in a mass of thousands, I felt it all. I felt the love of my family. I felt the power of accomplishment, I felt the hand of the Lord in all we were able to experience that day. And I realized—I was living the dream! I realized that sure, life could be better, I could have more, I could be wealthier, cooler, I could be smarter… but in fact, none of that matters. All I needed, I had right there—family. I realized right then that everything will be ok. Things may go wrong in various aspects and times throughout life, but with family everything will be ok. And that’s all that matters.

As time sped back to reality, I found a few tears rolling down my warm cheeks and sniffles in the sun burnt nose. I can’t let those tears be considered those of sorrow, for no assumption would be farther from truth. My small and simple tears were instead those of much joy, for my brother’s success had led me to such an important conclusion—that through family comes the purest love, strength, joy, and peace.

Words will never do justice to what I felt that day. And yet, here I am attempting to surface the deep feelings of peace and joy I felt. This is what I witnessed on that clear-skied day in July, not just a race for the gold, but an American dream."