Friday, August 2, 2013
A Letter to my other Superhero
We always talk about superheroes in our home...you know, how we call your brother one? Well he's not the only one with a cape here. I know someone else who is a superhero. He's a young boy who doesn't believe he has the courage to fly, but you know what? He does.
You see, this boy has the same credentials of a superhero that his brother does; he just soars differently. That's the way God intended. He is brave in every day that he wakes up and faces a new challenge his young self is not use to. He is brave in his ability to conquer a battle of anxiety or sadness that might get in the way of his path toward growing up into a fine, young man...toward greatness.
I marvel at this one superhero. His sensitive heart and gentle soul are his kryptonite. It keeps him wrapped in a beautiful bubble of protection against the evils of the world, never letting his goodness escape, but securely feeding his soul to continue to be the beautiful boy he was born into this world as.
This superhero's cape is orange. It has a Notre Dame emblem on it next to the super huge "C" that dominates it. The "C" stands for so much more than his name. It stands for Courage. Cool. Crazy. Cuddle. Cute. Conquer. Captivating. Capable. Careful. Comedic. Complex. Conscience. Conscientious. Cozy. Creative. Compassionate. It serves as the source of strength, this cape...to fuel the fire of his spirit that sustains him. It can be invisible so that when he goes off to Kindergarten each day leaving the security of his comfort zone (Mommy), he can still soar. Through the halls of this new journey that appears as villainous as the meanest monster or scariest calamity.
This superhero doesn't boast of his extra special powers. He doesn't make too much noise in the company of strangers or crowds. He doesn't find a need to be the center of attention nor does he want that spotlight. He doesn't say much or draw attention to himself, but his presence is so amazingly powerful and palpable; full of love, light, laughter and energy that those around him, once they understand him, want nothing more than to be around him forever.
His gifts are great; he can hug like he was born to be the Olympic champion of hugging. He can laugh with tears and snorts that fill a room with joy and make the most sad creature of God's Earth feel better just by being around him. He is smart, oh so smart and he can throw and hit baseball like Jackie Robinson. I'll tell you about that superhero on a different day.
What I admire most about this superhero is the resiliency with which he overcomes the challenges he is burdened with. In such grave times of fear or change, he rises up when he least expects it and I am in awe of how that happens so magically and mysteriously. He breathes through his fear and frail moments with a courage I can see he digs so deeply for, even through the crocodile tears. It's okay to cry. Superheroes do it all the time. Those same tears are what nurture and fertilize the growth of the beautiful person coming up from the roots we planted almost 6 years ago.
This boy is someone I love very very much, Bubba. He has changed my being and brought me more life, fullness and beauty to an already perfect world through my maternal eyes and has made me a better person. He teaches me something every day and I draw from him, a courage myself. He shares that with me. He feeds my soul and is a beat in my pounding heart each day I rise with the sun and sleep with the moon. He is a piece of me, and I am so lucky to know him.
Mostly, I am proud of this boy. I know things are hard for him...sometimes more than others. That's just something else God intended. HE made this boy special and sweet, sensitive and sound in so many imperfect and splendid ways with purpose and a plan; to plant a boy in the world that would make a difference and teach us about what it means to overcome and grow from our trials and tribulations...to let time heal and do its goodness. Time DOES heal and though we want to speed up time and impatiently we are desperate to find the "fast play" button on our internal remotes, we can't. So we have to appreciate the time and be brave in watching the seasons of our life find their place like the colored leaves, the quiet snowflakes, the determined buds and the shy butterfly waiting to spread its wings.
The boy I love, this superhero I dig, has wings, too. He is that same caterpillar right now. He is struggling to understand how this slow process of growth and finding his way will lead him to the comfort of his chrysalis and spectacular flight. But I know he will, even though he doesn't. And that's okay.
I am trusting today. I am trusting that worry will not win and that the superhero I so admire will pass a mirror in his life soon that will give him the blessing of looking into it to see how wonderful and amazing his reflection is. Until that time, I am going to give him a boost on his morning flight each day until he feels strong enough to let go and fly on his own. I trust this day will come, too.
Bubba...you are the boy. You are the superhero. You are the caterpillar and the hero and the sun and the sound of my life that I listen for every moment of my life. You are the music that I sing to and one of the many ordinary miracles of my colorful life and I thank God for you every day.
You will be okay. You will survive this. You will rise above, fall back often, but always prove that a superhero wins in the end EACH AND EVERY TIME. And I will be right there beside you watching in awe and glory that you are mine.
See you soon, Bubbers. Only a few more hours