Monday, March 12, 2012
No one had ever told her that such a great deal of parenthood would be waiting. Initially, there was the nine months in utero. Then, a never ending series of hoops to jump through: first full night of sleep, first steps, first day of kindergarten, etc. Although she couldn't quite put the sentiment into words at the time, she had a hunch that it wasn't the milestones themselves, but the time in between where life was lived.
She crossed her legs and shifted on the park bench where she waited for her youngest son to exit the school. Any moment his exuberant brown eyes would come rushing out the door in a sea of humanity like a mini running of the bulls.
She smiled briefly and then her mouth twisted into a frown. Last night he had talked about being a doctor again, just like his dad. She swallowed hard as she thought about his chances now that he was diagnosed with a learning disability.
It's not that he wasn't smart. The IQ testing had placed him in the appropriate quartile. But when school progressed to the point of learning how to read and write, it became clear something was wrong.
She had hired a series of tutors who were working with him closely, but progress was slow. She didn't have the heart to tell him that he likely would never become a physician. How could she crush his dreams at such a young age?
As he bravely sprinted across the school yard to her park bench, she decided that he was perfect the way he was. And only time would tell what he was meant to be. For now she would say nothing and love him the best she could.
Years later, that boy grew into a man and realized his dreams. Immersed in the problems of others, he married and had his own children. When his heart ached for his son, he began to understand the turmoil his mother must have felt.
He watched as life formed hurtles. Sometimes his son was lithe and agile; others slow and clumsy.
From time to time there were disappointments both great and small. He would pull those little boy hands and legs into his chest and wrap his arms around them protectively as hope fervently blasted through his soul.
And he would wait.
Posted by Jordan Grumet at 5:44 AM