Daydreaming, she thought of soccer in youth again—bursts of speed, sharp of cuts, and how she could lift and place a ball precisely where she wished.
Years and ages and time ago, she thought of now and how—a little slower, more easily tired, less crisp and sharp in cut—foot and kick remained. Like a bike—once learned—her body never forgot.
It made her smile—the memories and what of the game, in her, remained. She thought to playing with her children in yard and on empty, open fields of parks where families played.
There remained, always in her, a love for the game: as it had been, and as it’d become; and like all true love—passing it on to be known and loved by another, her children loving too the game and sport as she.