My Hero

Et tu Erich? Everyone just wants their 15 minutes of fame.............

One day you wake up and realize you're not your kids' hero anymore. You've been replaced by either a movie or a sports star, some cool older kid at school, a rock stud - or..........the dreaded boyfriend. "Oh, but mom, I love him and he loves me, and you just don't understand..." Yeah. Whatever.

And so it was that when my oldest daughter was in her senior year of high school, she was desperately in love. And I was ignored. And when I was spoken to, all conversations ended up being "all about Erich." I knew his favorite kind of ice cream, his favorite TV shows, I knew all about his family, his friends, what made him angry, the kind of clothes he wore, what music he was listening to at any given time of the day or night, his pet name for my daughter (urrgghhh!), and whatever "cute" things he had just done or said. I didn't like it. Therefore, I was sure not to like him, right? Wrong.

I was going to try not to like him. I was going to try and talk some sense into my daughter. I was going to remind her of her "feminist" roots; how she didn't need a man, how the best years of her life were ahead of her; college was beckoning; travel, fame and fortune were all at her fingertips. I was going to secretly relish in their fights and arguments - waiting for just the opportune time to tell her, "I told you so!" I was going to hold her when she cried, and together we were going to call him a "Son of a bitch," we would cry, we would laugh, we would eat Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and then we would move on with our lives, and he would be a distant memory in a scrapbook. But then I met him. And then I fell in love too.

He was a boy when I met him, but he has proven over time to be a man. He's overcome obstacles that most people will never know about or (thank God) have to encounter in their lives; he's seen good friends die in war; he's been to war three times and will go again shortly and he isn't even 25 yet; he loves sappy C/W love songs but yet also loves the most violent gangster movies; he's jumped out of perfectly good airplanes.........many times; he's maintained his goofy sense of humor; he's sweet and loving to his 3-year old sister-in-law (who once, by the way, threw up in his mouth); he indulges Alex on her shopping sprees and puts up with her mouth; cleans our house; takes out our trash; and talks non-stop military crap, war, fighting, etc., with his father-in-law which keeps them both happy. But most importantly - he puts up with my shit and my mouth, and for those of you who know me, that's saying a lot. Their marriage hasn't been perfect - they've had their ups and downs. Who hasn't? But they both rose above all the deployments and the turmoil of military life, and endured the young-love fights and adjustment arguments.

But back to me! I hadn't quite noticed how much he'd become a part of my life until they split up for a short time. I had to drive to NC and help my daughter pack up all of her worldly possessions, and ended up spending a good bit of that weekend in the bathroom crying. How was it that I could let this boy in my life, love him, watch my other children adore him, watch his wife cry over him, and then just give him back up to the world and never see him again?

And then one day I'd had my fill of all their problems. As much pain as they both were in, there was nothing either one of them had endured that hasn't long been endured and cried over by any long-standing married couple. Hurt is universal; it doesn't belong to them exclusively. I looked at my daughter - and all the faded memories from years gone by came back. Instead of me trying to tell her she was better off without him; I realized that she wasn't better off without him. And neither was I. I was going to miss him - and the hell with my daughter, I'd be damned if I was going to let him walk that easily. We sat them both down and asked them if they thought they were the only two people on earth who'd ever been hurt. They both stammered for a minute. And then we reminded them that if you leave everyone in life who ever hurts you, you'll end up alone. Everyone will hurt; everyone will disappoint; everyone will let you down. Enough. Put away your tissues. This isn't dress rehearsal. This is all you get. Get on with your life. And they did. For once in their lives, they listened to us. And now Fatima is happy. Because she didn't have to say goodbye to "The Boy." I miss him. I love him dearly. He's my hero and my only son.

Fatima-in-law