Walking through the doors and feeling that burst of chill that passes through me like a loved one's ghost. It envelopes me, and somehow warms me in a way that science cannot explain.
The comfort moves beyond the loving chill hugging me. A symphony of sound echoes off the walls, settling in my soul.
Blades cutting ice, crashing of pucks, shots swishing, slipping and crushing, the jolt and tyranny of angry pucks colliding with the boards and glass, coaches encouraging little hearts to follow their dreams is a music I can't find anywhere else. So many don't understand the rink is a comfort all on it's own.
And my son taking the ice, forgetting all worry...well that...that is simply Nirvana.
JYM
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