Just the Two of Us

The last seven and a half hours are among the worst moments that I can ever remember in my life.  The agony began, as I walked down the dark, desolate and lonely hallway which leads from Naeem’s room to the corridor where the driver was awaiting me at 4:50 am this morning to take me to Guarulhos International Airport in São Paulo, Brazil.  The walk felt ominous and foreboding similar to the walk John Coffey made as he was being led to his execution in the “Green Mile”.

Thank God, I had not been wrongly convicted and sentenced to death for the rape and murder of two white girls.  Instead, like John Coffey, I had to say good bye to the world or in my case, the biggest part of my world.  Like John Coffey, I feared the darkness of the hallway and the walk through the corridor.  Like John Coffey, I cried uncontrollably (as I am now).

At 4:50 am in Porto Feliz, Brazil, I had to say my see you later(s) to my son, my best friend, the beat of my heart and the pulse of my soul.  You see, Naeem will be training and playing soccer abroad this school year.  For the first time in his seventeen years, he won’t be easily accessible.  Yes, he has been away from home a number of times but never like this.  This is something altogether different and it hurts like hell.

Everyone says he’ll be okay.  However, with all due respect, none of those attempting to provide me comfort have ever been in my shoes.  A child living in a foreign country where he barely knows the language, leaving him in the hands of people whom I can’t communicate in person or without a translator, living in a city where no direct flights exist to reach him…  As I write this, I am growing increasingly uncertain about this decision more so now than at any time previously.

Maybe I should have planned to stay with him for the first couple weeks.  The downside to that is that he might always be seen with me and thus be perceived as the “unapproachable American” by the other players.  My personality has always been the perfect complement to one as initially introverted as Naeem.  Without my “never meeting a stranger style”, he could be there for weeks and never be anymore connected to his new surroundings than his day of arrival.

So there we were last night at about 10:30 pm preparing to say good night while we were both seemingly reluctant to do so.   Neither one of us wanting to be the one to turn off the final light switch.  Neither one of us wanting to be the first to get in the bed and under the covers.  It felt as if simply preparing to say “good night” was an admission that the world would be altogether different tomorrow – as if we would find ourselves banished to some alternative universe where we would never be heard from again.

As he prepared his belongings for the next day, I could see the trepidation in his eyes.  So I held my baby boy.  The young man who only moments earlier was doing his best to put on the face of confidence and fearlessness broke down.  As I held him in my arms, his body grew limp and he began to cry.  His sniffles turned into a painful collection of tears.  He cried the likes of which I do not ever remember hearing from him before.  As he cried, I cried (just as I am at this moment).  I cried because I wanted so badly to help him but the help that I could offer would not serve him at all.  For the first time in his life, I felt completely useless to him – neither taking him home nor staying with him would serve him in his Pursuit of Happyness.

He is hurting but outside of moving into the Academy permanently, I don’t know what more to do.  Again, I question the soundness of this decision and wonder if somehow I have failed him yet again.  At that moment, all that I was able to do was remind him that I love him equal to the love that any man could have for his son.  In short, I love him more than life itself.  I told him how proud I am of him and yet once again how he has exceeded my ability and surpassed my expectations.  I told him whenever he needs me, I’ll be there just like the lyrics from Will Smith’s song “Just the Two of Us”.  As I write, tears are streaming down my face while I hum the lyrics to the song:

I’m always here for you,
Look over your shoulder I’ll be there;
Whatever you need just call on me,
We gonna rise we gonna shine;
Whatever you need I’ll be there for you any time,

Just the two of us, you and I!

A parent never wants to see or hear the type of pain that I heard and felt last night.  I keep telling myself that this is the journey Naeem has chosen for himself and no worthwhile journey will ever nor should it ever occur on “Easy Street”    or shall it be paved in gold.  He has dared to dream of soccer greatness and all the greats have stories of triumph over tragedy, success where none seemed possible and victory where no believers initially existed.  I suppose the last now eight and a half hours are part of his journey, an important chapter in his story and what is meant by paying your dues.  Damn this hurts!