As many of you already know, our 17-year-old athlete snapped his Achilles tendon recently. His surgery went very well but he's got a long road of recovery ahead of him. They said he may not be cleared to play sports for 6-9 months (!!!!!). Emotionally, he's been handling rather well but I have not. The kids can't figure out why I've established a "no joking about this" rule* when "He doesn't even care, Mom, only you do!"
Well, smarties, it's not just me. Here are some of the nice texts, messages and gestures from other people:
1. From my Mom, relaying a message from my 14-year-old nephew:
2. From my 21-year-old son:
4. By the virtue of the fact that my son's coach has called me--twice--proves that this is a big deal. In one of our conversations, I was telling him how I seem to be more upset than my son is. I was really looking forward to watching him play his Senior year soccer season; I very much wanted to see him and his brother on the field together again.
"Oh believe me," he said, "We really wanted to see that too."
5. Lastly, two of our son's good friends baked him a cake. (The arrow is to get you to notice the . . . illustration. It's supposed to be a bloody foot. Kids are so sweet.)
* Okay, fine, I made one joke. Months before this happened, we had scheduled a short trip to meet up with the alleged adults and have a little getaway with all seven of us. This included a visit to an amusement park. I joked that we would have our son in a wheelchair and use him to cut to the front of the line.
To that, he said, "I don't even want to go on any rides." So I said, "That's okay, once we use you to get in the front, we'll leave you parked in the stroller parking area."
(Spoiler: we did not do this and he was a good sport about it all; sat around at the park for awhile and then I took him back to the air conditioned Airbnb.)
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