This is a fictional story. All characters are made up and the events did not occur.
That was supposed to be the hardest day of my life. I should have woken up sweating, shaking, and crying. I awoke to the laughter of my two sons. To be honest that is the sweetest sound my ears have ever heard. I do not mean individually, I mean them laughing together. Their giggles from perfect harmony that honestly puts my soul at peace. What were they laughing about? Honestly: a butt farting was my guess. Boys…
I was ready to play everything over in my mind 100 times; losing the only home we have ever known… I guess I don’t have the time for that. I thought I would have been eternally grateful to wake up two hours before my son’s and made coffee and breakfast. Now I think not having the time to think was worth eternal gratitude. That is what people don’t get. All that time to think is the killer. We don’t lose to a monster or evil: we lose to ourselves. No one else can really beat us. It is the choice to stop and the justification of that choice.
My sons have taught me so much about life and how to live it; everything becomes an adventure. A trip to the garage involves fighting monsters. Everything can talk, and for that matter can have a name. I would have never believed myself if I said that my spatulas would be named. I will admit a spatula named Spartacus has made me smile on almost a daily basis.
That was a wonderful few seconds in my mind. The mother in me had to know what my sons were doing before I heard a loud bang that was nobody’s fault.
The house I was unable to keep for my family is a two-story house. It was too much. I wanted it so badly. I think my sons would be happy living anywhere. Kids can adapt to any situation. Now, they were happy to be going to live with grandma and truth be told I was too. Honestly about all I wanted to see was my own mom. She was strong when I was weak, happy when I was sad, and truth be told she could always make me smile.
Our bedrooms are upstairs. They were downstairs by the front door. I was able to peek at them from where the stairs start. Bryson is seven and Hunter is three. They were playing in the shoebox located by the front door. With all the chaos of packing, I had simply forgotten to pack the shoe box. I now understand why kids cover themselves in superheroes. It makes them feel strong when they are not. It gives them hope, something to fight for. To a kid superheroes are everything. All of my boy’s shoes have something hero related to them. Even Bryson’s dress shoes have a batman pendant on the laces.
At that moment I got to see Bryson teaching hunter how to get ready. That makes so much sense. We all want to go see grandma. I knew that Bryson would probably wear the newest pair of spiderman shoes and Hunter would wear the captain America shoes I bought him a few days back. Watching Bryson teaching hunter was simply beautiful. I crept just inches closer. Now I could hear their soft voices. Bryson was soft-spoken, Hunter did not have volume control yet: it was adorable.
“OK! YOU PUT SHOES ME” Hunter screamed at Bryson pointing at the new pair of his shoes.
“Today we get to see grandma,” Said Hunter. “but we will never get there if we are not strong”. Hunter reached into the shoebox and started digging. He pulled out a very old pair of lime green shoes. His Hulk shoes. His grandma bought him the shoes. “these may fit you, don’t be mad if they don’t”
“WHY NOT MY SHOES?” A small confused boy said.
“You are my only brother, today we have to be strong like Hulk for mom,” Bryson said. My 3-year-old got it.
At that moment I got to see my oldest son put his favorite pair of shoes on my youngest son. They were up and ready to go for me because they are my heroes.
“I’M STRONG LIKE MOM!!!” Screamed a very happy 3-year old wearing his brother’s favorite shoes. I was his hero: he is mine. Now I finally understand.
The day I dreaded for so long became one of my favorite days in my life. I have my favorite picture of my youngest son wearing his brother’s shoes outside of our first house. I dreamed of walking away and never looking back. I am glad we stopped to take those pictures.
No tears. Not today. Strong like mom.
NEVER GIVE UP ON LIFE. NEVER GIVE UP ON LOVE.
THAT’S IT. THAT’S ALL:
-Nathan Hall