Sebastian
Forty Years Later…
“ I s that really you, Grandpa?” Hunter asks as he points to the bronze bust of me in my playing days. It’s on display beside my signed Hyenas jersey hanging on the wall.
We’re all at the Hockey Hall of Fame—me, Alina, our four kids, their spouses, and our twelve grandchildren. We stopped here on the way back from our vacation in Yellowstone.
“It sure is,” I say as a rush of old memories come back.
“But where are all your wrinkles?” Hunter asks, looking confused. All the adults laugh.
“He didn’t have wrinkles back then,” Alina says with a warm smile. “Wasn’t he handsome?”
Hunter scrunches his face up and tilts his head as he stares at the bust. “I like him better with wrinkles.”
“You know what?” Alina says as she puts her arm around me. “So do I.”
I smile as I kiss my girl on top of her head. I like her wrinkles too. Each one was formed by a lifetime of smiles and laughs. Our happiness over the years is literally visible on our faces.
We’ve had the most amazing life together. Fifty years and too many good times to count.
“Why did they call you The Sniper?” My granddaughter Nancy asks when she sees my old nickname on the wall.
“Because he killed people, duh,” Hunter says with a roll of his eyes.
We try not to laugh, but this kid is effortlessly funny.
“My sweetheart didn’t kill anyone,” Alina says with a kiss on my cheek. “They called him The Sniper because he had the most accurate shot of all time. If the goalie was foolish enough to leave one tiny hole open, Sebastian would slide the puck in, no matter where it was.”
“Yeah, Hunter,” Nancy says with a stern look that reminds me of her grandmother.
My daughter-in-law Wendy is reading the plaque on the wall. “It’s amazing,” she says as she turns around and looks at me in awe. “After all these years, you’re still the league’s top scorer.”
I’m the top scorer in hockey and I swear I am in marriage too. I bet if you added it all up, I’m the top scorer when it comes to husbands and wives. I could never get enough of my pretty little wife. Even now that we’re in our late seventies, my appetite for Alina is still insatiable.
“A couple of hot shots have come close to Dad’s record over the years,” my son Shawn says. “But he’s still too far ahead for anyone to catch up.”
“With teammates like Austin Gambill, Harris Sutton, Tucker McKinstry, and Edvard Svensson, it was easy,” I say, smiling as I remember carving up the ice with those guys. We were really something to see.
We turned the Hyenas from the worst team in the league into an epic dynasty that might never be beaten.
But as talented as I was, I could never have done it without Alina.
She was my rock.
My soul mate.
She gave me more than unimportant records and silly stats.
She gave me a family.
A loving home to return to.
A future to look forward to.
And even if we don’t have much time left, I’m going to cherish every second I have with my girl.
Just like I’ve always done.
The End!