I am surrounded by other mothers on a daily basis.
Every one of us has our own story.
Some of us have had it easy.
The fairytale story. Great family, great schools, college, marriage, kids, etc.
Not necessarily in that order.
Some of us have had a more bumpy road.
When I sit on the sidelines at soccer with the other moms I sometimes wonder what happened in each of their lives.
Lives that landed us in the same place at the same time.
I look at the one little boy who can sometimes be OUT OF CONTROL but his parents love him some terrible. I look at them. An older couple.
The lady petite and quiet. The husband large and loud.
They seem so opposite yet so happy. What’s their story I wonder.
There’s the one little blonde girl who is clueless on the field. Her mother doesn’t yell from the sidelines for her to “kick the damn ball already”, but instead has her water bottle ready when it’s break time. She gives her a big hug and tells her how she’s doing such a great job.
Then there the brother and sister. Lael has taken to the sister. They were in Cheerleading together so they are like magnets to one another.
But the brother. There is something a little different about him.
He’s quieter than the others. He runs a little different.
I talk to the mom at every practice but I don’t dare ask.
But yesterday she shared her story with me.
Her story of how her precious baby was born when she had already had a 1 and 3 year old. How she couldn’t get her baby to eat.
How her baby threw up lime green. Stomach acid.
Her baby slept all day.
She took him in at 3 weeks and tried to have her committed for abuse.
They soon learned that her precious boy was allergic to food. Her milk. Formula.
He pretty much starved for the first 6 weeks of his life.
Until they figure it out.
Because of that he has complications.
Things that will be with him always.
My heart hurt for this mom. But I was also proud of her.
Even though he ran with a limp, she didn’t exclude him.
The kids tend to back off when he has the ball, to give him a chance.
I noticed the coach held Lael back yesterday when her boy had the ball.
I didn’t mind.
I knew there was something special about this little boy.
And now I know why we all cheer just a little bit louder when he scores a goal.
Because this is part of his story.
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