Monday 8/24/2009 Manhood

I am the amazingly proud mother of two ridiculously wonderful kids. My children are in their mid twenties and life is theirs for the taking. I’ve loved every moment of watching them grow. Well, I love it now. As events and issues were happening, I may not have had the appreciation for the moment as I do today. But as with anything and everything, the trials and tribulations of parenthood have shaped me in to the woman I am. My views on life would be vastly different I believe if I was not a mom. I would have missed out on so many joys, tears, fears and life lessons if I had or God had decided I wouldn’t mother. When I was late in my pregnancy with my first, a girl, I had an insatiable need for Jamoca Almond Fudge ice cream. Back then it wasn’t a flavor you could run out and pick up at the local grocer. It was only sold at Baskin Robbins. My wonderful husband stopped one night and grabbed a quart in an endless effort to make me happy. A few days later I asked that he again return to the store for more ice cream. He made some comment he thought was charming about my ever expanding body and in my advanced gestational stage, I thought he was being mean… I cried and screamed. He left our apartment with the slam of the door. That was it I was sure, it’s over. What should I say to my parents when I call and ask them to come and move me home? What will I say to my poor fatherless child? How could a man be so cruel… walking out on the women carrying his baby? I began to pack a few essentials… dreading the phone call I knew had to be made. I showered. Got dressed and steeled myself as I picked up the phone. The door flew open. There stood my husband with an entire 5 gallon, big brown beautiful tub of… Baskin Robbins Jamoca Almond Fudge! He walked by, kissed me on the cheek, stuffed the wastebasket sized container in the freezer and said… “Try not to eat it all in one day”. Gotta love that man of mine.

But what is a man? What defines when a boy becomes a man? In Judaism a boy becomes a man when he celebrates his Bar Mitzvah. In many cultures there are rituals and sacrifices that make a boy a man. Is it as simple as the passage of time or the acceptance of a religious doctrine? I don’t know. I do know that in my heart I have loved watching my son become a man. We do not practice and/or celebrate a religion that defines when that was to have happened. It has happened slowly, at a snail’s pace. At the same time it happened at the speed of light. It wasn’t the deepening of his voice or the growth of hair on his face. It was a look that passed between us, so caring, so tender, so like his father. It happened for the first time a number of years ago. My son is a hockey player, but he is so much more. He has played for most of his life. It is what he does, but it is by no means who he is at his core. He was playing in a game that meant a great deal to him as well as to his team. It was a crazy game and it was at a critical point. I could never sit still for a game and he understood that. For years he would look for me in the rink, but I was usually pacing and praying. He understood and accepted my nervousness. At this amazing moment, he was just about to take the face-off. He was bent down so low in his stance in his attempt to pull the puck back and to the player behind him. I’d seen this play a hundred times. He looked over at me, raised his eyebrow, smiled and winked at me. I exhaled. He had in that moment displayed the cool, calm maturity of a man. But it is only the calm that identifies a man? I don’t think so. When I had to call my children to tell them about the situation their dad was facing, they both reacted as I expected. My daughter took charge of the situation and got everyone together to make the long journey. She was outwardly flawless in her determination to get to her dad. Theirs is an extraordinary relationship that I am blessed to be witness to. I am not yet ready to share my stories of my daughter and I will want her blessing before I do. I trust you will understand and enjoy them when it is the right time. My son began texting me… asking me to go in to the hospital room and tell his dad this or that. As if he knew I had hit a rough spot, he texted me about an hour before they arrived, he said he was proud of me and that he would be there to hold me soon. I read it to my husband. I thanked my husband for helping me bring these two amazing people in to the world. I thanked him for being the best dad he knew how to be. As I went down to meet the kids to prep them for the condition their dad was in, I couldn’t hold my daughter back. She needed to see him, hold him, and be with him. My son didn’t want to see him just yet and that was fine. A look passed between us and I understood. My daughter was with him for a long time, talking and praying I suspect. Tears, fear, heart break and sadness came upon her. Her fiancé had made the trip home with her. As they are finding the rhythm of their lives and love she clung more to him than to me. I accept and understand her need to be with the man she loves and his need to care and comfort her. Her fiancé is a fine man. When my son finally went in to see his dad, his heart broke as well. He didn’t “man up” and hold in all his feelings or distance himself from the pain. He embraced it. He allowed himself to be open in his feelings whatever they may be, whatever form they would take. He is a good man.

I don’t know if I did all I was supposed to do for my daughter and son. I hope they are coming to terms with all that has happened. I cannot even begin to understand what it means to lose your father. Just as they cannot understand what it means to lose the love of your life. But I imagine we are not the biggest losers in this drama… my husband lost the 3 loves of his life.

So to me, a man is caring, loving, emotional, passionate, thoughtful and kind. My husband was all of these things and more. I believe my son is and will continue to be just like his dad. I believe them to both be great men.

I hope so…