There were so many amazing experiences today, but one that is hitting me right now is my taxi ride to the stadium. My drivers name was Hazim. Hazim is 37, from Bagdhad, Iraq, where he lived with his wife and 5 kids. Hazim worked as an interpreter between the US military and Iraqi military during the wars. After the war the US offered him and his immediate family a visa. His wife was in medical school, but in search of a safer, better life they decided to literally leave everything they own, their families, their house, and get on a plane to come to a completely unknown country. Hazim picked Denver because he knew 1 person here. That was all the info they had to go on. Hazim is an uber driver now, his wife is taking English classes, and in February he and his oldest son get to go back to Baghdad to visit his mother for the first time in almost 5 years. I was nearly in tears as he dropped me off at my gate, where I was off to enjoy 3 hours of football.
I can’t express to you the feeling of gratefulness I felt while walking towards that gate that I believe was directly spawned from hearing Hazim’s story. It’s not a profound or groundbreaking idea or emotion, and I feel like I have a generally good sense of gratefulness in my life, but man did I need that. I enjoyed the heck out of that game today, because those moments were gifts, given to me out of my control, and to not enjoy them would be doing them an injustice. Hazim’s story moved me in a way that I needed to be moved, in a direction towards simple, unabashed gratefulness.