It’s not supposed to be like this.

I should be in those stands.

I’ve been watching you from those stands since you were in kindergarten.

I’ve been to nearly every game since. Cheering until my voice went hoarse. Clapping until my hands were red.

I’ve earned the right to be there for you today.

I’ve paid the fees.

I’ve put in the hours.

I’ve invested every ounce of my being to watch you succeed.

In-person.

But now I’m sitting at home waiting for this page to load. Hoping it won’t cut out as you drive in for that layup.

I’m at home while you’re out there.

Outside of the frame. Outside of my reach.

I’m frustrated. I’m resentful. And darn it, I’m sad.

But all this time at home has got me thinking.

Maybe . . . just maybe . . . this is preparing me for our future.

In no time, you will be setting off in a world without me.

You’ll be in a world where you won’t see me in the stands, won’t hear my voice, won’t walk off the court to my awaiting arms.

Today, it feels too soon for me.

Too soon to let you go, without me.

I don’t think I’ll ever be prepared for that.

But . . . I hope you are.

The future is unknown. As your mom, I just assumed I’d always be in it. But, today, I’m learning I probably won’t.

COVID has rushed me out, but it’s also rushed me in. Into an uncomfortable space. A necessary space. A space where you don’t see me. Don’t hear me.

But boy, I hope you know I’m still here. Will always be here.

Rooting for you.

Originally published on the author’s Facebook page

Mehr Piracha Lee

I’m a writer, wife, and mom of two navigating motherhood with careful attention to keep my children grounded, empowered, and even a little wild. I write Raise Her Wild to inspire and connect with other moms (and dads) walking the same path. You can also find me on Facebook & Twitter.