I walked along that street, oblivious to the sweat on my forehead and upper lip, loving the sunshine and the periodic breeze. But what I loved more was watching my son walk with purpose towards every house. Towards every mailbox. Towards wherever he could place one of those purple and white envelopes. He insisted on holding at least 10 at a time- independent from Mommy. Doing it all by himself. After a while, I actually wanted to cry… I was so proud. I am so proud.
He’s such a determined boy, such a determined boy for this cause. For epilepsy. But most of all for his family. He may be a Daddy‘s boy right now, but his Mommy he will always protect. I remember him barely two holding my hand comforting me during and after a seizure. And then at three, telling me “things are going to be OK, you’ll be fine.” And four. And five. And now, almost 5 1/2, I watch him march purposefully down the street, up each walkway – opening the mailboxes and squatting to watch each envelop as he places it carefully inside. Commenting as he passed by on this house- that’s pretty- or, that house must have kids because of the toys in the yard. Houses whose mailboxes are through their front door – not a problem. He walks right up there. Even houses with the front door wide open for air. Determination and purpose.
And I’ve instilled in him the will to pursue. We’ve taught him. And our circumstances. He’s learned it, he’s lived it, determination and purpose. To see displayed now, without fear…
I laugh thinking back as we handed out those envelopes earlier today, and remembering me telling him – don’t worry, let’s just skip this house with people out front. Nope. He looked at me and said, “that’s fine Mom,” and marched right up to them, handing someone, or even more than one, an envelope. No matter the cigar, book, glass of wine, beach towel in their other hand.
I know they say children are brave, fearless, and determined… But my son, for all of his outgoing nature and seeming ability to talk to anyone, can be very shy and conscientious of rejection. Yet here he was today – walking up to strangers, handing them something he knows they full well might not welcome or want. Just plain ballsy. Lol I don’t know how else to describe it.
So today, we walked a set of streets, pretty houses, overall nice people but I couldn’t help wonder who would see the word “epilepsy” and actually open the envelope? Who would instinctively toss it as junk mail, who would be curious, and who would say- our family is not alone? My heart hoped for the curious and ached for the latter… But I know this – watching my little man of almost 5 1/2 stand tall with confidence in a world where even when you don’t have something “wrong” with you, life can be difficult- just reinforces my hope as a Mommy we’ve shown him the true riches in life.
My son’s faith in people, belief in compassion and drive to heal, being amongst them.
Man I love that kid… and his fight to end epilepsy.
Always determined. Always purposeful… I’d like to think, just like his Mama. 😉
Love this and miss you