Last Friday found me at my son's school for Field Day. Most Field Days at elementary schools involve races and other feats of athleticism. However, since this is San Antonio, and it is Fiesta time, Zane's Field Day was more about the party, and less about athletics. As I waited around for Zane's class, I was thinking of food, which is what I do with my free time, now that I don't have chemotherapy. There were several booths offering sausages, hot dogs, nachos, cookies, and sno cones. Normal Fiesta fare, except not at 8:30 in the morning.
Then the students came out, each class dressed in a different color shirt for easier location. I found Zane's class in time to hear Zane's teacher pairing the kids off so that they could meander the fair together. Zane spotted me and attached himself to my side. He also brought several of his classmates. The group of us wandered about, with the boys running from the cart races, the bouncy castles, the tattoo booth, etc.
It began simply enough; one of the boys asking me to hold on to his jacket. No problem, I told him, wrapping it around my purse for safekeeping. We wandered around some more, and then the boys decided that they wanted to try one of those fishing games where there are clothespins on the line. Each boy got a little bag of treats on their line.
And what do boys usually do with the extras they collect along the way?
They give them to their moms. If their mom isn't handy, they give the item to the person closest to matching that description. That was me. I suddenly found myself carrying five tiny bags of goldfish crackers along with a jacket. Then the boys wanted something to drink, so they went to the drink booth. They all sat along the curb, drinking their Gatorade, until they decided on their next activity. But none of them had finished their drinks!
Guess who got to hold those?
I also held napkins, empty sno cone cups, spoons, and other items over the course of the two hours I was there. As I followed after the boys, my arms loaded down with the detritus of five little boys, I finally had to laugh. I was a Mom. This is part of motherhood, carrying the burdens of others. We have that kind of bond with our children. I carry my son in my heart, and I guess that means I carry all the other things he will encounter as well. Sometimes those burdens will be as easy and simple as sno cone cups and little bags of goldfish crackers. Other times, the weight will end up being heavier. I hope those times are few and far between, but whatever happens, I'll be there.
That's my job. Mothers are the Holders of All Things, be they heartaches... or Gatorade.