The Pope is in the beginning of his next grand adventure of the ultimate test of his Catholic faith. Do you think he will write? Wouldn’t it be a bummer for him if the atheists were right, or reincarnation is correct and he gets to come back as a flea? Can I go to hell for that?
I was 18 when Pope John Paul II became il papa. Disco and the band Journey were still popular, and my own father died August of that year: 1978.
I think it is kinda cool that the Pope will go out in the middle of March Madness. Is that a sign for the NCAA?
Speaking of contact sports-
This week my son got into his first real fight. He lost. The other boy is 12. He’s got a nice shiner on his left cheek. When my ex husband called and told me, then handed the phone to my son, I sucked wind. I probably inhaled my carpet. I’m not sure. It’s the call you never want to get – even if he is a boy. Nothing was broken, except some of his pride. He’s 9 going on 10, so yes, that whole male-pride thing is beginning.
He was upset, but to my surprise fairly ok. This must be one of those great guy-club secrets. Because girlfriends, if some witch bruised my cheek when I was 9 I would have found a way to get even later – even if I was 65. I just think, as women, we don’t roll the same in this arena.
I asked my son if he was scared when it came down. The boy had pushed him, and Brian pushed the boy to the ground. When the boy got up he came with a running punch to the face. It knocked Brian down. That must have come as one hell of a surprise.
Brian sighed, “NO! I was really mad. I don’t like being shoved for no reason from a kid that’s being mean.” “Ok”, I thought, “Neither do I.” I realized at that moment Brian was somehow different. His voice sounded older.
Fast forward to today and he wears that bruise like some sort of badge of honor. In his head he is not the loser of the fight. He was brave. He even tried bossing me around today.
I gave him a get out of jail free card this time.
I dropped him off for a sleepover at my brother’s girlfriend’s house. Her sons are 10 and 14. It’s a boy’s house and I like her. The boys ran up as we parked – glad to see Brian. As the three walked up the driveway they were inspecting the bruise and exchanging old fight stories and injuries. Brian had just become a member of the boys fight club.
I bet that fight story becomes like mens fishing stories.
Now don’t get me wrong – I am not in favor of violence. It bothers me that he was punched in the face. I would much rather someone use their head over their fist – every time. I also understand the laws of nature. I understand this type of thing is a part of a boys growing up.
This week seemed to be about stages. The Pope moves on to his next stage. We move the clocks forward to the next stage of the year. Brian moved to the next stage of boyhood. And, I’ve started this new stage of writing again after 25 years of silence.
Until next time-