There comes a time in life when we are stopped in our tracks and caught thanking our lucky stars for what we have. Some have more than others and some work hard to make do with what they have. When it comes to health issues, all of us are touched by situations that have checked us to the reality of the old maxim “if there but for the grace of God go I.”

When I was 5 my brother Scott was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes. Watching him take daily insulin injections became a part of our routine. We would come to learn to live with his convulsions as the disease altered his life. As much as we lived it, we really didn’t live it at all. It was his battle and closing our eyes was easy to do. Twenty-five years ago closing our eyes became a reality as the disease was slowly closing his eyes. As can happen to diabetics, eyesight problems can fester into blindness.

Over those initial years there was some sight, and bitterness was accepted as part of the cards dealt his way. He and his wife Lisa would persevere and when his children came along he was able to watch them grow, albeit in a hazed fog. Both Jordan and Hunter have become pretty good athletes. When you live in the sports-minded world that I do, watching our kids play sports is one of the most refreshing things we can hold on to. It’s why we are so passionate when watching and defending them. As Scott’s eyesight waned, he could only relate to the other fathers and mother who would tap him on the shoulder: “Hunter played very well tonight,” or “Jordan sure hustles and plays with heart.”

Of course, he attends all their games. Being close to his kids means they know he supports them, even though he can’t and never will see them play again. Finality and reality in Scott’s world came many years ago. True, it was not a life sentence, don’t tell him that, but it is his personal life journey and that has become much harder of late.

Last Thursday night as Hunter’s Ottawa Sting Peewee “AA” team played in Maxville against Seaway Valley. “It was Scott’s birthday and I made the trip out to broadcast the game for my brother. I took with me the Corus radio equipment and had downloaded the team lineups from the internet. It was going to be an actual broadcast for Scott alone. I had made that trip many times with my son and knew how hard those nights could be against tough Ottawa opposition—lopsided scores and long rides home. The Sting, in this case, were led by a tall, smooth-skating forward named Hunter Racine. The kid who would lace up his skates and dominate parts of this game knew what uncle Thom was doing there that night; it wouldn’t change his play as he racked up a couple of goals and assisted on a pair. What he didn’t see was my deep appreciation for life’s little things. My brother, listening to my call, head down like he was listening at home. When number 15 scored his second of the night on a rink-long chase for a loose puck, I called it this way: “Racine chases down a loose puck; he beats the defenceman wide and fires a sharp, angle shot towards the goal, save (there was a delay to be sure it dropped in over the line) he scores!”

My brother, still head down staring at the floor, wiped away a tear. “Was it a good shot?” he asked “Not bad, sharp angle, probably should have been stopped, goal scorer’s goal though,” I replied. Even though he couldn’t see me, I swallowed hard to continue. Another night would pass and it would be on to the next game. Another game that he won’t see, but will feel with every beat of his aching heart.

Wake up tomorrow and live life to the fullest, everyone, and be thankful for what you can see. Email thom_racine@hotmail.com