There are zillions of platitudes I could have offered up to my son and his Cougar Baseball Team when they lost, 5-4, at the county finals. It truly was a fabulous game but that wasn't going to ease the disappointment or the tears. Though I texted him immediately after with "You guys are great and I LOVE you all!" my words fell on deaf ears.
His father and I knew he'd be miserable but and together we agreed (hoped), he'd get over it - when?
On my way home my fast-backward glance at my own disappointments and losses made me realize that there were few words I could offer that might help. So when Jake called me from the bus ride to home field to hear whatever he needed, I said, "Losing sucks, Jake. I'm so sorry. I love you."
And, ya' know - in his moment of silence that followed, I knew that was what he needed to hear. No more, no less.
I knew that no other words would have made a difference He'd feel better sooner rather than later. They, his teammates, would each have their own way about them, they'd commiserate and then ready themselves for their next challenges.
What's a mother to do, to think, to say, to hope?
That his losses would be few, his wins great, but his fortitude everlasting.
Go Cougars! I (we) love you all.
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