Winter Aches...

As I sit watching it snow and enjoying the fire, I am tending to an extremely ill husband. Not "irritated" ill, but extremely sick. Bless him. I have been up with him since about 11:30 last night and had to demand that he stay home from work and get some medical attention. At the moment, he is fitfully sleeping after keeping down some broth and ginger ale. Pray for a cure soon. As much as I am feeling for him, my tired self is beginning to lose patience with this "Nurse Betty" role. I guess that thought about becoming a nurse as my second career when I grow up isn't such a good one.

But, what is even more forefront on my mind during this difficult day is the disappointment my elder child is feeling because of a recent tryout. My heart is breaking because he wanted to be a part of something so badly, and he was not chosen. Now, I am not one to demand my child be given something he doesn't deserve and for which a better qualified child should receive. However, whenever they feel disappointment, I ache for them. I know in my heart of hearts that these are the moments when they learn the valuable lessons and become men of character, and my lead on how to handle the situation is what will help them develop the skills needed to be successful in life. But no matter how I try, I am the one who cries secretly and aches inside for their disappointment. I would love it if they always were chosen for teams, always hit the ball, never struck out, caught every pass or ball hit to them, ran the fastest, swam the best, sang the most on key, played instruments well just by picking them up, made the highest grades, knew poems without hours of practice for a recitation, created the best display or presentation, and more. But, just as my extremely wise and kind mother reminded me during times of competition and disappointment in my youth, "there will always be someone smarter, prettier, more talented and better at what you are doing." And although that doesn't always remove the sting of the loss, it does make one's attitude going in realistic.

I stress to my children that if they can say to themselves that they did their best, then I ask nothing more of them. I will forever be proud of what they have accomplished and will do whatever it takes to help them if they truly want to improve and attempt a goal again. But, I HATE the disappointment they feel. I wish I could take it from them and replace it with that "tickle in your tummy feeling on Christmas Eve," as my younger son once called it. But if I did that, I would in no way prepare them for the unfair situations that life throws at us ad infinitum. And I desire to help my sons become men like my father and their step-father: men of honor; men of their word; men who know it is okay to feel and to grieve, but understand the need for decorum at times; men who can lose with dignity; and men who can end each day knowing that they did the right thing.

I just wish it didn't require on the job training on their part....