As I peruse my recent writings on this blog I realize I haven’t mentioned how Brian’s football playoffs are going – or went.
‘Went’ would be the operative word. In the end Brian's team went down in glory and played their hearts out. I never knew a bunch of 9-11 year old boys could play at something with so much heart. I was amazed at their level of commitment and comradery. In the final game Brian’s team was down 18-0 at the end of the 2nd quarter, and it looked like they were being outplayed at every position. Silent boy faces left the field for halftime, looking as if their dreams for a playoff position were gone like the end of summer.
Then a funny thing happened.
Brian’s team wouldn’t give up. They came back in the 3rd quarter and the next thing I know Brian’s team scores two touchdowns and is down 18-12 and have turned the game around. Typical parents that we are, we begin to lose our voices as it looks like the kids have a chance to pull a "Joe Montana". (Joe Montana was the 3rd quarter quarterback).
In the end it came down to three attempted Hail Mary's in the last seconds of the game. Everyone was on their feet wanting this group of kids to win, but as fate and fortunes go, it was not in the cards, as the 10 year old quarterback over-threw his final Hail Mary pass in the last second of the game by about a foot.
Then, the most amazing thing happened, the boys did not explode in tears. They got in line to congratulate the other team who was jubilant at their win. They shook hands and walked back to be with Coach Hal who gathered his team in for one last talk. I walked down from the bleachers wondering how Brian would be and what would I say.
I was proud of how hard they played and their dignity. I contemplated how I would explain to Brian that their behavior meant more to me than if they had won. A guy friend once told me that the loosing creates more of a man than the winning, and while walking the walk to greet Brian I understood too well what he meant. But now, with my son’s heart broken, what will I say?
I walked all the way to the gate at the field this time and noticed my x husband stayed back at the stands. I was not about to let Brian walk that long walk alone after his first big loss. At first sight he looked ok, but as he approached I could see the tears rolling down his cheeks. It was all I could do to hold back my own, so I sucked in a fair amount of wind (these are the toughest times as a parent). Sometimes certain types of pain is good for our children to feel, and we can’t fix it – it is a part of life.
He buried his face in my chest and I kissed the top of his head. All I said was “Brian I am so proud of you, that was the best football game I have ever watched”. Now, my son knows I worked for the bank that sponsored Joe Montana in the 80’s and my parents had seats on the 50-yard line 22 rows up to the 49’rs for more years than I can say – in fact my uncle has them now. “Really?” he looks up and I use my thumbs to wipe his tears. “Really really” I answer. He grins, “Can I have a Gatorade?” “You can have two today if you want”, I answer as we pull off his gear.
At this point my x husband walks up, suddenly it dawns on me that he couldn’t face Brian, and once he saw that Brian was ok with me he felt he could approach Brian. My x husband didn’t want to cry. He hugged Brian and then they started the whole pushing and shoving thing that men do when there is too much emotion in the moment. Brian’s giggles flow out and fill the air, breaking the tension. I can see my x husband’s relief that Brian is ok, and I realize that this man really does love his son very much.
Now remember friends, I was not all together behind the decision to let Brian play football at such a young age. Believe it or not, it was my own mother who said, “Brian is a big boy and his father can’t coach this. I think it might be really good for Brian”. Why is my mother always right?
When Brian started football he weighed 116 pounds and when he got his uniform he was 113. He had three weeks to loose 13 pounds and certify at 100 pounds. Oddly, he came to me and said, “Mom I heard you talk about what you did to be so skinny in ballet, how would you loose the weight?” I laughed out loud as I said, “Brian I used to stick my finger down my throat and throw up – that is what dancers do – then we would eat a yogurt or an egg every other day. Do you want your system to be as screwed up as mine is now?” He wrinkled his nose at the thought of throwing up and starving himself. (We all know how honest I am). He understands how long it took to diagnose my thyroid disease and what I have gone through to get well, so he definately is not a fan of the "live by air" diet for anyone.
“But I do know how to ‘get healthy’ and I can show you that”. I went on to tell him that he could live without cookies in his lunch, reduce his lunch to rolled turkey and fruit with water, and drink nothing but water. His breakfast could be eggs and we should switch his dinner to two hours before practice, protein and veggies or green fruit, and then only a light snack like an apple before bed. He looked at me and said, “I can do that”. And so he did.
He had to sit out the first game because he was holding steady at 102 pounds, but the players were allowed 2 pounds a week, as long as he maintained, he could play the following week. He played the following week and was down to 101. It was at this point I found out who my son really is and understand how little we really know people, even those we live with and love.
The coaches told Brian his weight was fine, and I offered him a treat every now and then. Brian refused all treats, even though he didn’t have to certify to that 100 pounds. He was determined to certify at 100lbs and no one could stop him.
It was a sunny day in September when Brian’s team won their first game via shutout. All the boys were excited, but as Brian approached me at theend of the game, I could tell his grin meant something more. “Did you certify today?” I asked. His grin widened, “Yeh, I did” he answered. I thought to myself, ‘wow this kid is determined and stubborn’ – I have no idea where he gets that… When everyone else could weigh 106 pounds, Brian weighed in at 100. Suddenly I realized my little boy is becoming a man, and just what a man he is becomming. He is one determined little man.
I have stayed in Santa Rosa and put my life on hold to keep Brian near his father. This type of childhood experience is exactly what I wanted for Brian. It was what I wished upon a star for so many times during the awful years after the divorce. Boys need their dads, as much as we women in divorce might not like to think so. (Trust me I have hated his father and wanted him gone when he was making my life hell).
We can't change the fact that kids love their parents. It is just plain wrong to attempt to cut a parent out of a child’s life. We all know I don’t take child support because I want Brian to have a good life with his dad. You could argue with me on this subject all you want but in the end it just boils down to does the parent see the kid –F*** the money. I knew the money issue would keep us at war for years while Brian suffered and I wanted the suffering to stop. Besides, who says I cannot take care of myself - and Brian?
However, Brian’s dad paid for all the football costs and took Brian to all the games and practices allowing me to sail in and out as I pleased. He was as committed to Brian as Brian was to football and I saw my x husband grow up (some) from the experience. I think a few people thought us nuts at the games when my x's girlfriend Katie would sit between us, cheering for Brian. But as I often do, I look for the love that is there for Brian and I know that Brian understands that in the world of the screwed up adults, he is number 1 with us...
We adore him.
... and he is my little hero.
C
