And even though he came in last
With head bowed low, unproud
You would have thought he’d won the race
To listen to the crowd
And to his dad he sadly said,
“I didn’t do too well.”
“To me, you won,” his father said
“You rose each time you fell.”
– Dee Groberg, The Race

A literal embrace of failure for Father’s Day (thanks Eileen), life imitating art.