Heroes

I just updated my MySpace page, probably for the first time since I created it.  There were a few things I had to delete, and a few things I had to add.  And while I know that MySpace isn’t the end-all-be-all of the networking world, it is important to keep up appearances.  You never know who might happen by!

While going through the categories, I noticed one that I hadn’t filled out yet.  It seemed curious to me that I would have missed it, because I knew exactly what my answer would be as soon as I saw it.  They must have added it recently.

The category was “Heroes.”

Heroes have been enjoying a resurgence lately.  The NBC-TV show has brought the word back into the limelight– even though I don’t watch the show.  But it seems that the general public has taken kindly to the idea of placing admiration upon one or more people who they would most like to emulate in life.

The typical idea of a “Hero” is a caped crusader, saving the day with a whoosh of a cape or a swing of a golden lasso.  But those kinds of heroes are reserved for comic books and cheesy 60s TV action shows; or maybe a movie remake or two in the present day.

Instead, when presented with the option to choose a hero, some people choose a celebrity or an icon– someone who has paid their dues and made it big.  Some choose a sports figure: a star athlete or an underdog who came from behind and won it all.  Some choose a musician: someone who represents how they feel through their songs.

But for me, the choice was easy.  I have but one hero.

My mom.

As far as I’m concerned, moms have the hardest jobs in the world.  Not only do they have to bear their children, they have to be there for them from birth to adulthood, giving every ounce of their strength, body and soul, and of course love, to make sure they are happy, healthy, and following the path that suits them best.

They will be there to wipe the tears.  They will be there to administer the hugs.  They will be there to cart them to school and dance class and soccer practice and swimming lessons.  They will be there to answer the tough questions and help their children understand why the answers are what they are.

But a mom’s job doesn’t end.  Ever.  Even as children enter adulthood, the mom is still there as a guiding light; encouraging, but never pushing.  Giving advice, but never coaxing.  And always– ALWAYS– loving.

Even when the mom’s health is diminished by age, or time, or other outside sources, she remains strong.  That’s the magic and the power of motherhood.  It’s a God-given gift that cannot be denied.  It’s a bond between mother and child that can never be broken.

My mom is my hero because of all of these things and so much more.  With everything my mom has been through in life, she manages to remain calm, confident, nurturing and loving to me and my sister.  She has been the rock upon which my life has been built for as long as I can remember.  I can’t remember a single time when she has shown a crack in her armor of love for us, because it simply has never happened.

None of what I’m saying is meant to diminish the role of the dads in the world, as their role is equally as important and meaningful.  And I’d be a fool if I didn’t say that my dad was a hero to me as well.  He most certainly was, in many ways.

But my mom has survived health problems, marital problems, family problems, births, deaths, early retirement, and so much more, and yet she continues to look at life with a positive outlook. How can I not find that inspiring?

Who is your hero?  And why do you count that person as such?

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