I have always been enamored by the Olympics. I don't watch a lot of sports (other than Wimbeldon), but for two weeks every two years, I am a homebody with the television on all day. When Kerri Strug fell and busted her foot, I was recording it. I had hours and hours and hours of the 1996 olympics on tape (thank goodness for DVR!). So it's not a stretch to say that I am ridiculously excited for tonight.
It's been nearly a year and a half since the beautiful opening ceremonies in Beijing. August 2008. As has become tradition during the Olympics, I had pulled out my sewing machine and was working on a project. (I can only sit still for an hour or so before I get a little antsy, and sewing was the perfect project.) I was working on a Christmas stocking for Dan since he didn't have one, and I had grown up with handmade stockings. It was crazy quilted, and I was so proud. I had just finished it as the closing ceremonies drew the Olympics to an end. It was August 24. That date would have been just another date, and my time sewing that stocking just another memory were it not for what happened the next day.
The two weeks I spent watching the Olympics... the two weeks I spent making Dan's stocking and starting our unborn son's... gone. The stockings... gone. These Olympics are bittersweet and another reminder of what was. And what now is. I shouldn't be watching the Olympics on a large flatscreen television. I should be watching them on my 26" hybrid (not an old tube TV but not yet a hi-def flatscreen). I should be pulling out fabric and my sewing machine. But I don't have one.
The Olympics is also a reminder of the passage of time. It doesn't seem like we should be a whole Olympics removed from the fire. But we are.
Tonight we watch as the Olympic torch is once again lighted to commemorate the theft of fire by Prometheus. The myth says that he stole fire from Zeus and gave it to the mortals. Fire- a gift to give life. As we watch the flame ignited tonight, we remember that though fire can temporarily dampen our souls, there is a spark that lives on inside us. Tonight I celebrate not only the start of the Olympics but the flame as a gift of life.