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TO KEEP YOU SAFE
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I dedicate this to all mothers who have children in the armed forces. Whether you realize it or not you are serving your country in the most significant manner any human can. You are offering up your child. There is no greater sacrifice. I have never had to do that but I wanted to tell you a personal story which, although certainly not on the same level as your sacrifice, is nevertheless something which may help you deal with this. |
By LYNN PERRIER
of TheColumnists.com
I was a single mother
of one son. Like most lionesses I did every thing in my
power to make sure he was always out of harm's way. I was the
mother they tell
jokes about. You know, the one that hid behind bushes to make
sure her child
made it to school safely. Nothing and no one would ever hurt
my son in any way
and God help anyone who even thought about it. Somehow I would
know. My mother's instinct would set off alarms and I would hunt
you down like prey for a starving tiger. You get the picture.
The time came, of course, when, despite
all my plans for him, he defied me and
started growing up. My days of hiding behind bushes pretty much
came to an
end. He started high school and would have killed me if he ever
saw me within
100 feet of the school unless it was on Parents Night.
One day he came running in all excited,
jumping up and down, his face flushed.
He proudly announced that he was going to play football for his
high school. I
have never seen him so ecstatic. He wasn't a big kid. As a matter
of fact, next
to some of the monsters in that high school he would be considered
small. He
played hockey for a number of years but he was definitely not
a jock like some
of the kids on the team. I suspected the only reason he tried
out for football
was to get to know the cheerleaders. He had a small frame but
he was wiry and
fast so maybe the coach thought his speed would make up for his
size. I wish he
had asked my opinion but he didn't. Trying not to show the extent
of my concern
I calmly asked if he considered that he might get hurt.
"Nah, it will be o.k., except for my fingers," he said. "Boy, that hurts when you hit the ground! Lots of the guys break their fingers, I heard"
Terrific, that was one injury I hadn't even considered.
Oh God, please help me!
Laying in bed that night I couldn't sleep.
I kept picturing my son being tackled
on a hard cold field and carried off on a stretcher or coming
home with both
hands in casts up to his elbows. I had been through enough heart
stopping
games when he played hockey and now this. For some unknown reason
I had in my
mind that he could be more seriously injured playing football
than he could
playing hockey. Mind you when hockey season started I am sure
I would reverse
that conclusion in my mind. I kept my concerns to myself but
I can tell you it
bothered me terribly. Football games usually took place in the
afternoon and
since I worked full time I would never be there to watch him.
That was probably
best for me anyway. I don't think I could have stood silently
watching him get
crushed by 2000 pounds of teenagers falling on top of him.
A couple of weeks after his announcement,
he brought his uniform home to show me.
He was so proud. He went into the bedroom, got changed and came
bouncing out
wearing this big oversized, grass-stained shirt and skimpy looking
pants. He
thought since I couldn't be there to watch I would enjoy seeing
how he looked
decked in his football duds. Great, so now when I pictured him
being carried
out on a stretcher or his hands in casts I would have a more
accurate vision of
him in his uniform.
Oh God please help me!
Since the uniforms were the property of
the school, they were passed along from
one kid to another. It needed a good cleaning. I told him to
leave it out and I
would wash it. I wanted him to at least look clean when he was
carted off on
the stetcher.
After he went to bed I took a closer look
at this uniform. Boy, that material
wasn't very thick! How in the world is he going to escape being
skinned alive? I
know they wear equipment but still you would think they could
make the material
heavier for some added protection when they slide and bounce
all over. What
about grass burns?
I washed it that night and as I removed
it from the dryer I happened to notice
the seams on the pants. They were doubled over. I guess that
was done for
strength. That meant there was a little channel along each seam
which was about
1/2 inch wide.
I went into my jewellery box and rummaged around for a little silver St. Christopher medal I found on the front lawn a couple of weeks before. I am not Catholic but I thought I remembered hearing St. Christopher helped keep people safe so I cleaned it up and put it away.
I picked up the uniform pants and carefully sliced a tiny hole into one of the seams, slipped the St. Christopher medal inside and sewed it shut. When I was finished I gave it a little kiss. There's a kiss to take with you to keep you safe I thought. At least if I can't be there you will have something to help protect you.
I folded the pants up and put them in my
son's gym bag to take to school the next
day. I never told him about my safety precaution.
For the first few weeks, on the days I
knew there had been a game, I would almost hold my breath on
the way back from work until I saw that he was at home in
one piece and without casts.
I listened for the next little while to detailed descriptions of how the football games went. According to my son, he was always instrumental in the winning games but the games lost by his school were ones in which he spent the whole game on the bench.
I started to relax. After awhile I knew beyond a doubt that he was going to be o.k. I knew that kiss from Mom was keeping him safe one way or the other.
Football season ended with nothing broken
or sprained and hockey season started.
It worked so well the first time I went and bought another St.
Christopher medal
and sewed it into his hockey shirt. He never knew.
It gave me such a feeling of security that although I was always concerned, I was never sick with worry as I had been in the beginning.
He grew out of hockey and football and his interests changed but he never suffered any injury while he played contact sports.
That little St. Christopher medal remained in those football pants and I've often wondered if it continued circulating season after season with some other mother's kiss.
It doesn't matter whether our children are little kids playing outside or soldiers in a war, all mothers worry about their children and never totally escape the feeling that we are their protectors. It just goes with the territory.
You are facing one of the greatest challenges
in the life of a mother. You are
going to be sending your child away from your protection. Think
about sending
them off with your own special kiss from Mom to keep them safe.
Mine just
happened to be a little medal but it doesn't have to be. It can
be anything that
is close to your heart or significant to you in some way. No
matter where they
are, it will help you to know they still have their mother's
protection.
I guarantee it will give you some peace of mind until they are back home again.
God Bless all mothers of soldiers.
Y ou make the greatest sacrifice known to mankind.
©2009 by Lynn Perrier. This column
first posted on Jan. 12, 2009.
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