I am the mother you saw at school drop-off for her ‘amazing’
little kindergartner who refused to get out of the van for school. The one you
connect with yet filled with a tinge of gratefulness that today it isn’t you.
I am the mother who crawled across the van to remove her
child.
I am the mother who told her son, “Go ahead throw-up. Get out
of my van and throw up!”
I am the mother that carried both her 3- and 6-year-old sons
up the long sidewalk of the school, pausing to say good morning to the parents
along the way.
I am the mother who walked across the school lawn, then
stopped, “I will not chase you down!”
I am the mother that looked into the teachers’ eyes at the
front door pleading for help and found comfort in…please take this child and
bring him to his classroom.
I am the mother who turned her back, eyes filled with tears
when her son was finally safe behind the school doors.
I am the mother abundantly blessed, standing firm in her mission
of raising her young men; thankful that the comforts of home radiates in her
sons but knowing with all her heart they must step out on the next path and
they will be okay (and so will she).