You became my hero yesterday. Right there in McDonalds. And I would stick a purple heart on your chest if I could because what you did was heroic in my eyes. How courageous you were. How bravely you battled and struggled and fought - until you won. And I was so proud of you.
I am so proud of you.
I am so proud of you.
I realized yesterday that you fight this battle every day. This war of words.
This is the life of one who stutters.
It is a struggle.
Internal and external.
Every. Single. Day.
You had to place your order and I made the decision not to speak for you any more. And you were nervous and anxious. You stuttered and stumbled and blurted it out.
She didn't understand what you said.
She didn't understand what you said.
Both of you looked to me for interpretation and clarification.
And I looked the other way.
It hurt me to do that. I know it hurt you too. But I know there are bigger battles
ahead for you, so I had to let you fight this one alone.
And you did.
I wondered...what would it feel like if I was to run every race and never get to the finish line?
To go on a diet and never lose any weight?
To keep writing exams and never pass?
Surely I'd feel defeated. Surely I'd lose hope.
Surely I'd give up.
I think most people would.
Yet you don't. You get up every day and go out into this world
and fight this battle. This war of words.
Yes, there are victories. But there are also crushing defeats.
And wounds that may not heal. And scars I'll never see.
So I had my own war of words. With God. And it was ugly.
And I asked him how he expected me to stand by and watch my son suffer.
Every.Single.Day.
And he reminded me that he saw His Son suffer.
In a garden.
And on a cross.
So I had my own war of words. With God. And it was ugly.
And I asked him how he expected me to stand by and watch my son suffer.
Every.Single.Day.
And he reminded me that he saw His Son suffer.
In a garden.
And on a cross.
So son, I hope you know this: even though I cannot fight this war for you,
I am always, always on your side.
For Elliot. My son and my hero.
You can read the poem I wrote for him here
Linking with Emily at Imperfect Prose.
You can read the poem I wrote for him here
Linking with Emily at Imperfect Prose.
9 comments:
Hi Elaine,
This was beautiful. It must have taken a lot for you to let Elliot order his own meal and Elliot was very brave to do so.
I think what you are doing is good, although I appreciate as a parent it must be hard. The sooner Elliot begins to learn to deal with the anxiety, the better it will be for him as he gets older. It's great that he has you who understands exactly what is going on and is there to support him.
i am crying. this is so, so beautiful, elaine. sharing this, and praying for your son, and you. you did right by him, mama-friend. i'm proud of both him and you.
That was a brave thing you did, it took great and mighty strength. God bless you both.
My father had a stuttering problem when he was younger. My Mom always ordered for him and he never wanted to go out or anywhere he'd have to speak. So good that you are having your son speak now. He can do it.
I felt the agony of your mama's heart here.
So poignant. From a mom who is her daughter's voice, that made my breath catch in my throat.
I love your mama heart, here. I would like more of the back story and tried to follow the link to your poem but couldn't seem to get access. I pray you know every moment of every day: God put you and your son together for beautiful and specific reasons. May God bless and keep you both.
Beautifully written and shared.
It's so hard to allow our children to struggle, but it is love. God bless you, my friend. I'm glad you're back. Sweet words for your son and your God. God is good.
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