An E Ticket Ride

When I sat on the lawn at the corner house at Princeton and Dent on a blanket with my Barbie dream house and all my friends, I ambitiously wanted to be a mom. Not just any mom. I wanted to be the most wonderful mom in the world.

I would redefine the term Mother, make it into something for all the world to envy. I would never be too busy to lay on the grass and play house, climb through bushes pretending to be in the jungle, and make blanket forts in the livingroom. My children would never know the sting and uncertainty of divorce. They would always have enough food, enough adventure, enough intelligence, enough imagination to thrive. They would be perfect, these children of mine.

Well I don't suppose that childhood dream turned out exactly the way I planned, but I gave it the old college try.

We played hide and seek with their duck-toed tennies peeking out from beneath the sheer curtains in the window. I would jump out from behind a door and they would leap in surprised glee. We swam and flew and ran and somersaulted our way through their childhood. I hid pennies under lamps when they dusted; we laughed and snuggled our way through a thousand repeats of Arthur the Anteater and beestings and disappointments. I would find them on the refrigerator or in hampers and cabinets, or under the cushions of the couch. We chased down and tackled their friends who honored us by toilet papering the house. Life consisted of neverending sleepovers and treasure hunts. We camped, explored and studied.

As things turned out, life did encroach. Imagine my surprise at learning the boys weren't perfect! They sometimes floundered and struggled. They fought for their right to be stubbornly obstinant, to take the harder, more circuitious route. We did come to learn the heartache of divorce, despite my best efforts to keep it at bay; they did come to know a mother with too many work responsibilities to be home after school with a snack; they figured out how to get themselves to practice. We learned love helps us survive adversity.

It's nice to learn that reality can surpass dreams. I couldn't imagine how much better it would be, how much harder the lessons, the magnitude of the risk, the immeasureable joy.

I'm grateful my sons grew through the limits of my imagination and into the men they were meant to be. I am amazed by their insight and encouraged by their compassion. They take me on adventures I never would have explored without them. They test and stretch me beyond where I thought I could go, make me better than before.

It's been an E ticket ride.

NMcC