Question untitled chapter 1

1st day of school, August 2013
Middle School. Its not a fun thing for a parent. If kids believe that going to a new school, with new teachers, new friends, new rules and new expectations was a scary thing just for a second imagine how a parent feels letting you freely walk into that large new jungle.

In elementary school we could just show up, go straight into class and not be a bother. Now if we show up we risk ostracizing our own children. To be the reason your son or daughter has to face unnecessary bullying, just because you wanted to check up on them and make sure their safe and OK. Talk about harsh. Especially when it becomes your own child that begins to have resentment toward your concern. Not to mention when you have a child that has good reason for the extra concern.

That's what I faced now that my son was walking into his new school on the first day of class. All the worry I've held inside started bubbling to the surface as he turned to me to wave. Knowing that soon that habit would fade from his actions like all the other little things that disappear as children grow. His brother did it. So did his sister. Oh how children want to grow and expand their world as their parents just wanted them to stay and secure in the world we built around them.

I should've spoken to him before today, told him what scared me the most but how does a parent bring that kind of thing down on their own child.
“I'll talk to him soon.”

Final game, March 2014

Alex was on the court. And as a parent I was doing my job of cheering but not to loud. Can't embarrass him by being louder than the coach no matter how hard it was to keep my excitement inside. Pride, its what I felt at that moment. Overwhelming and boundless pride. He wasn't the star, he wasn't the tallest or the fastest. But damn if my son didn't push himself even beyond what I knew he could do. He was having the best game of his life. The smile that covered his face even while defending against the other team got him both praise and gripes from his coaches but what could they do. He was enjoying every second he was out there, even when struggling against the number 1 team in the city.

The game with back and forth till the final buzzer, Even with such an amazing game they lost but the team screamed as if they won. The crowd cheered as if they'd won. And in a way they did. Alex's team was expected to loose and loose big. But to hold the game to within 4 points showed how hard they'd tried. How much each and every player pushed and left everything on the court with both their sweat and tears. As a mom I did my job and waited on the sidelines. I'd get my time to share in his success in the van and his teams success later at the restaurant. Now he was sitting on bench the bench and I watched as the head cheerleader approached him. I laughed remembering a similar scene played out by a cheerleader and his older brother. I had to cover my mouth so no one saw me laughing as his face went red with the attention. And then I noticed something that brought me crashing down to the ground. I watched as my son continued to talk to the young girl as he absently rubbed his legs looking as if he was nervous.

“Tonight,” the mother said heading to her van as tears leaked out.

October 2014

At some point you expect your kids to eventually grow out of dressing up and trick-or-treating but that just turns into Halloween parties. And the older they get the bolder these parties become. I have to admit that even after going through this twice before this time was the one I was most concerned about. Seeing my son being picked up up by his girlfriend as he went to his first Halloween party was about as sad a site as I'd ever seen. Seeing him climb into the car, slow and careful taking a firm grip on the upper doorway as he swung his legs inside before closing the door and waving as they pulled away. It took everything in me not to let the tears fall as my youngest drove away dressed as a 1920's gangster trying to downplay and camouflage the cane that was now a permanent part of his life.

April 2015

the door closed with a certain finality that could I could feel as I rushed to the living room to welcome my youngest. He'd been gone for 4 days, a school trip to mammoth cave national park. It's all he talked about for the last 3 months since he found out this years trip destination. I froze in my tracks once I took in the state of my son. He was crying. Sitting there in his wheel chair, bag set on the floor by the door.

“She dumped me,” he said in a voice that barely carried over the sound of the TV. What was a mother to say to her child who was experiencing his first heart break. His brother hadn't even gone through this sort of thing yet having the habit of changing girlfriends every few months. I simply sat on the couch physically pulling him from his chair to my lap wrapping my arms around him trying to provide what comfort I could. He struggled for a brief moment trying to be more adult then he needed at that moment but just as fast just broke down and started crying as if the damn broke. We sat there together, like he used to when younger and having scrapped a knee or elbow. Allowing all the built up pain to drain away in my arms. This being the part all parents missed the most as their children grew older.

It wasn't until the next morning that I finally got the story. Even with the parks assurance there was little to no accessibility for a wheel chair at the park. There were many activities such as walks and hikes through the caves and surrounding forests that he didn't have a chance to experience forcing him to stay behind more and more often. And his girlfriend hung back with him on the first day but after his own assurance that he didn't want her to miss out she'd went ahead with the rest of the group. Then on the third day he hadn't seen her at all. With barely even a hello when they got together at the bus for the trip back. They sat together but where they normally held hands whenever together she sat in a totally different seat on the entire ride back. Finally breaking the news to him as they came up the walkway together headed to our front door. Apparently having to slow down and wait, to help him navigate through hallways and public places the head cheerleader no longer wanted to slow down especially since high school was just a year away.

He spent the following weekend in his room, the first time he'd done so since the night I told him what was happening to him. And on Monday morning he came out of his room, a smile of his face and headed off to school like any other day. Once the door closed nothing could stop me from falling to the floor and crying for the pain I knew he was feeling but was trying to cover up for me.