I love being a mom.
Friday night I was the mom of the son singing and dancing on the show choir stage.
Saturday I was the mom of the same son on the soccer field.
In between the two was a short sleep of five hours. I was so tired. Bless my husband’s heart… He offered to get up early with our son to make sure he was up, had breakfast, and left on time to catch the bus so I could get an extra hour of sleep. But I declined his offer. I don’t want to miss one memory-making moment with this son of ours. Not one.
We traveled two hours to our son’s game yesterday late-morning. As we sat in the stands, my mind took me back to a track meet from my senior year in high school.
It was the middle of a weekday afternoon. Only a handful of parents were in the stands. And there they were. Mom and Dad.
The memory still brings tears to my eyes.
Dad was still in his work coveralls, work boots, and cap. They were sharing a bag of popcorn from the concession stand.
My heart still warms, as it did that day, as I recall the scene. I ran up to hug them. I don’t remember much of our brief conversation, but I remember the feelings as if it was two days ago. It meant everything to me to have them there.
They each sacrificed to come and support me. Dad closed his mechanic garage a few hours early, and Mom left her job early to make it to the meet. They ALWAYS did this. I don’t remember a game, a meet, a concert, a competition they weren’t at. Little did I know then, they were the example I would follow when I became a mom.
I’m not sure if it gives our son the same feeling when he sees us in the stands. Maybe he’s just used to us always being there. It’s just what we do. We go to everything to support our children, as my parents did for me.
During that very meet, I was running the Shuttle Hurdle Relay, and my back foot caught one of the hurdles. I ended up sprawled out on the asphalt track. Ouch! My eyes glanced to the stands. Mom and Dad were both on their feet cheering, with concerned looks on their faces. I got back up, finished my leg of the race, and we ended up winning it. (I still have the medal to remind me.)
One of my favorite things being a mom? When my teenage and adult children still run to me, and greet me with a big bear hug. Similar to what I did to my parents that day at the track meet. (Smile.)
This post may be for no one else but for yours truly. This memory is too important to not have in one of my posts. Thank you for allowing me to share it with you!
Julie
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