Life lessons are hard....at any age.

Get a Kleenex.  I'll wait.  Seriously, if you decide to venture out and actually read this long post, you'll probably need it, assuming you're human. 

First and foremost let me make this little disclaimer straight out of the gate:  This post has absolutely nothing to do with the coach.  I agree wholeheartedly with his decisions.  This post has entirely everything to do with a mother's heart.  That's all.  Which is an ocean with no bottom....and that fact becomes more apparent every single day.

I have always intended to be honest, transparent and just myself here on the blog. Which sometimes translates to y'all getting short chapters of novels as posts. Because in all honesty, I can be a bit word-y.  But that's me.  And usually, the me you know or read, for the most part is peppy, happy, fun-loving, crazy....and often, word-y.  Today, I'm broken....but still word-y.  Bear with me, here we go.


So, this high school thing is still a roller coaster ride.....it seems not a lot has changed in the last couple of decades.  For 12 solid weeks, we've been experiencing a football induced high. I assume it could be likened to sniffing crack, except it's the smell of the pigskin that brings on the euphoria.  We made it to the 2nd round of state playoffs and even though we lost this past Friday night, it was a good run.  Finishing the year with a 10-2 record overall, was just delightful.  I love football, I think I've mentioned that a time or eight here on the blog! :)   The end of one season here in Smalltown, USA means the IMMEDIATE beginning of another.  And the next sport on slate is basketball.


Basketball is not my favorite....not even close.  However, Elder Son wanted to try out for the junior high team, so we said, "go for it."  Actually, in years past, I've said my boys would try out for every sport, because in our rural small school, sometimes it takes every kid we have that's willing to try out just to compose a team.  I knew it was a long shot that as a 7th grader he would make it.  There were several really good 9th grade athletes who were also trying out, like a whole bunch, and they are primarily the team.  But I gave him my best cheerleader mom style pep speech upon departing the vehicle to enter the gym....."just do your best, that's what matters".  A couple of hours later I received the phone call. 


"Hello"
"Hey Mama, can you come pick me up?"
"Are you finished?"
"Yes, mam"
"Well, did you make the team?"
"No, mam"
"Aww, I'm sorry, but that's okay, I'm still proud of you for trying, maybe you'll get it next year.  And I'll call Granny to come pick you up"


Click.  I didn't have a lot of emotion to offer up right in that moment because I knew he was calling from the gym (thus still around his friends) and I was sitting in the pediatrician's office waiting room with his sick sister waiting to be called back.  A lot was on my mind.  And little did I know that one call would change the course of parenthood for us. 


To be quite honest, one of the first thoughts that went through my head after hanging up was....thank goodness, at lease now I have time to make Elder Son a dental visit and haircut appointment, all after school, because for the first time since August, he will have no practice or games. 


I did call my mom later on to check on him and make sure he was really okay.  She said he was, and that only one 7th grader had made the team, Elder Son's best friend actually, and that Elder Son had already made a call to his mother and him to say congratulations and good luck. 


I knew he would be upset, but I thought that sounded like he was really doing okay. Then I arrived home to talk to him face to face. We discussed try-outs a little, with me holding his face in my hands, looking him in the eye as his lips quivered and telling him it was all going to be fine.  I was proud of him and if he didn't like basketball he didn't have to try out again next year, but if he did, he could work harder and try again.  He agreed, shook his head and began his math homework. 


Then his father arrived home.  Elder Son barely let him get in the back door before he met him in the hallway.  He was coming in from a board meeting and had stopped earlier at lunch, prior to try-outs, to buy a new basketball net for our goal outside...just in case, but we really needed a new net anyway.  He knew Elder Son hadn't made the team, but he brought the net in to show him anyway.  Life lessons are hard.  Elder son stood there and they began talking.....and then I noticed in an instance, Elder Son wasn't talking, he was so sad and was releasing that sadness while his father was talking.  I walked over to be with him.  And I held him as close and as tight to my chest as I could get him, while we both cried.   That scene just about broke the Daddy's heart.  It's tough to see the mama and the firstborn cry at the same time.


I've cried before. Plenty of times.  I've seen my children cry before. Plenty of times.  Even for hurts.  Like in 3rd grade when other kids were saying mean things about Elder Son's features, or just last year when other kids were talking about Middle Boy's small size for his age, or when Baby Girl lets loose on a crying spell, for no reason at all, and she admits she doesn't know why.....just because she's female, I suppose.


But this was different.  This was a first at our House of Bowling. It was a hurt we've yet to experience.  He'll be fine.  He's twelve.  There is next year, or the next. As his father stated to me, it's good for him, not to take for granted that you can just be on a team, you have to work hard for it.   And that is all true.  But it doesn't make it any easier to take right here in the moment. Elder Son is resilient.  He may not even remember this time and the feeling after a few weeks, months or years.  Certainly when he's older and he reads this, he'll probably think this is one of those made up "mama stories". 


But the mama.....she will remember it well.  It will be hard to forget when a chunk of your heart was broken slap into pieces.  Because this little creature that you gave life to had a hurt to bear, and you were there to bear it alongside him.  I won't forget what it feels like.  I know I'll feel it again with all 3 of them in some way or another, many times, over the course of their lives.  Things like boyfriends, girlfriends, work situations, job offerings, family matters, home, goals, school, break-ups, betrayals, loss, devastation, fear, anxiety.....the list is endless and then some.  We've all experienced them.  Life lessons are hard.


This is just where our story begins on the parenthood journey of it all.  I used to wonder why parents, especially mothers, would get so emotional about this kind of stuff.  I wonder no more. I have felt it firsthand.  You just always want the best for your child, for them to be happy, for them to be great at everything, knowing that perfection is impossible.   But you all know if you're a parent, you would wish for your child to never experience hurt of any kind.  As parents you want to shield and protect them...that's our job.  However, it's impossible to do....hurts are a part of life.  Life lessons are hard. Still, it just breaks your heart in ways you can't imagine, or at least I couldn't. I was totally unprepared for this. I don't know that you can prepare for it.  And really in the grand scheme of things, this is a really minor issue, just right now, in this moment, it's as raw as it gets.


I can look back on my life now, and realize things I thought hurt back when I was a teen, things I thought I would never get over, never be able to go on.....I did and I have.  I came through them all.  Not without battle scars, but I did indeed survive them all.  I remember the summer before my senior year in high school, after experiencing a devastatingly tragic loss of a dear friend, thinking that was the most horrid hurting imaginable.  Now I look at it, not as his friend or girlfriend,  but as a parent.  As a mother....what a loss, what a hurt that must be.  I had no idea at the time.  I understand it more now.   But back to the story, that fall, I decided to try something new, something completely different than anything I had done before.  Kind of a new outlook to get my mind off the hurt. 


I tried out for the volleyball team.  Please note I had never played a sport in my life.  Sure I had been a cheerleader for 6 years, but competitive sports....nada.  I made the team.....but I sucked. I even played, started as a senior at the setter position.  I tried hard at what my coach and teammates told me to do.  And I learned a lot that year. Like, a whole lot.  And I had a ton of fun.  At the end of the season, I received a trophy for "Most Improved".  Which basically just meant that I still sucked.....just not as much.


I loved being on the team. Being a part of a team.  My Elder Son enjoys that same feeling, being a part of a  team.   He's going to miss it for this season.  But I'm sure I'll be seeing him out there at that new basketball net trying his hardest to prepare for next year's try-outs. Hoping he won't miss out on that feeling again.

As I said initially, this post is not about the coach, heck, it's really not even about basketball. 


This whole month I challenged all who read our blog, especially those in our H3 group who are memorizing scriptures, to be thankful each and every day this November.  For something new each day.  It's easy to praise God on the mountain; it's more of a challenge to find the praise while you are down in the valley. 


After Elder Son had gone to bed, I laid in the dark trying to find slumber, without much success due to so much running through my mind. And literally my chest was hurting.....I'm sure many of you mothers know what I'm talking about....actual physical pain you feel after going through experiences or trials with your children.  I realized right then and there it was time to find the praises to give to God instead of worrying otherwise.  I thought of these:  I AM THANKFUL FOR,

• to have a son
• to have a son physically able to attempt athletics
• to have a son who isn't afraid to show us his emotions -- Is he going to show you? Probably not. Please remember we are still "cool high school guy"....but this episode was behind the home doors, where he felt his safest, in the arms of his Mama and Daddy who love him so dearly. 
• to have a son who knows that fact. 
• selfishly, to have a son I get to have all these extra hours with each afternoon now.  
• to the Lord for those hours and pray I use them to HIS advantage, to show more of Jesus during this time

I'll leave you with what I told Elder Son this morning.  Knowing he would have a lot to face, head on, at school this morning.  All of this life is fleeting.  Elder Son is on God's team and that's the most important thing in the world.  Bar none.  He can't get cut, and neither can you.  You don't even have to worry about try-outs.....there is a space for everyone.  All you have to do is say yes to His sacrificial blessing....His gift to be a part of HIS team....for eternity.


Life lessons are hard.....at any age.


At 12, it's hard to understand that you can sometimes try "too hard" for something.  And it hurts like crazy when you don't get it.  But youth is on your side and you will bounce back.


At 36, knocking very closely on the door of 37 (next week), it's hard to grasp just how much your heart can love.....and therefore because of that insurmountable love, it was even harder to grasp just how much your heart can hurt.