A Determined Hero

So, here I am at the beginning of a very long and dimly lit tunnel. If I squint, I think I see a pinprick of light somewhere in the distance, but that could be the small amount of hope I have allowed myself to feel. If only I could put one foot in front of the other, this journey would start.

But, I hesitate.

What's really waiting at the end? Is it what I am hoping for: the light to illuminate the darkness? Is that a faint flicker at the end of the tunnel or am I getting lost in an illusion of an unattainable goal? I sigh and close my eyes. Remember. What did that 11-year-old boy say to me that day he came home from school?

"Mom. Today we were talking about heroes. We are learning about Terry Fox." My son stares earnestly into my eyes. "The teacher went around the room asking us who our hero was. Since I was in the middle of the room, I heard everyone say things like Terry Fox or a hockey player or someone famous."

I smiled vacantly at my son. His favorite hockey player was Brodeur. I rather thought that's who he would have chosen to mention, but he surprised me.

"When it was my turn, guess who I said?" he asked eagerly. "Brodeur," I automatically replied.

He frowned fiercely at me. "No! I said my mom was my hero," he responded. "But then everyone else after me started saying things like that, too. They are such copycats!" I heard the annoyance in his voice.

I was unaware that my mouth had fallen open in shock until I realized I was suddenly paying very close attention to him. What was he talking about? How could I be his hero? What have I ever done in my life that would warrant my son describing me to his entire grade six class as his hero? I quickly scanned that life full of abuse, near-poverty, and depression. Nope. Nothing there that I could see.

"Why did you say that I was your hero?" I asked softly, trying to understand his thinking. He rolled his eyes in a way that clearly suggested I should know the answer to that. "Because you're determined, mom," came the response, as if that was supposed to explain everything. "You never give up, no matter what happens to you."

I felt tears well in my eyes. This precious boy thought that I was a hero. Unable to speak, I reached out and squished him close against me, kissing his forehead.

I open my eyes and stare into that uninviting tunnel. One step and the journey begins. Focus on that boy's revelation. I am a hero. I am determined.

I take that first step. And it begins.