Ferocity

When I was young a neighborhood bully took my new bike and ramped it up the side of a tree, then pulled my hair. I ran home to tell my mom. She comforted me but then she said “wait here.”

I watched her march down the street to the bully’s house. I remember the rigidity of her body. The fierce and determined look in her eyes. Nothing was going to stop her from standing up for me. Her love for me and anger that I had been hurt guided her to confront the bully’s parents.

I remember not being afraid of my mom, but understanding that someone had done something wrong enough to make her really mad. My mom didn’t really get mad. She didn’t really lose her temper. She didn’t really confront a lot of people.

But I understand now where her ferocity came from. As a parent all you want to do is keep your child safe and loved. I’m not talking about sheltering them. I’m talking about protecting their right to live the fullest, healthiest life they can. Sometimes things get in the way of that and watching your child suffer is unbearable.

As I grow to understand my role as a parent this ferocity becomes clearer. Just as I would have given anything to take my mom’s and dad’s cancers away – I would do anything to keep my boys safe. And sometimes that mean sticking up for them. Following my instincts. And pushing back.

Parenting is a balance between stepping in and allowing your kids to go through their own trials and tribulations. But I hope my boys know I will always fight for them. Be there for them. And be fierce with my love.