by Beth Saadati
My nine-year-old son
slides his hand into mine as we wander the aisles in search of a gift for his
sister. He desires closeness. He wants connection.
I cherish the moment.
After all, I know what he doesn’t—that the days before he’s no longer a young
boy are numbered. That time speeds by and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.
That’s why we’re
here. Because, after nearly three years without a teenager in the house, we’re
about to have one. In a few days Christa will turn thirteen.
“Do you know what you
want to get your sister?” I ask. Reaching over, I brush his hair to the side so
I can see his eyes.
“A sword. I already
told her.”
“A sword?”
“Yep,” he says, “so
she can fight. I just need to find the right one.”
The mom in me is
tempted to tell him to save his money since she’ll outgrow it too soon. Instead,
I hold my tongue, because Josh is smiling. He looks happy.
It’s been a long week
of uncommon bickering with the sister who’s secretly his best friend. He’s
deep, battling thoughts no nine-year-old should have. He’s been fighting fear.
Fear that, lost in
new teenage ways, Christa will pull away. Fear that she’ll enter a world of
hurtful bullying, listen to lies, and lose her way. Fear that he’ll lose a
playmate and sister. Again.
I speak words to
comfort and assure him. “Christa’s a great kid. She’ll be a terrific teen.
Everything will be okay.”
But, as much as I
look forward to the joy of living life with my own teen in tow, I feel the fear
too. I know no family is immune. And I couldn’t bear the grief of suicide a
second time.
“Mom, WalMart doesn’t
have it. Can we try another store?” Josh’s words pull me from imagining what I
don’t want to see.
So on to Target we go.
Same scenario, same warm fingers wrapped in mine, same perusal of plasticized
products.
“There it is,” says
Josh. He points, and I pull the Nerf sword down.
“It’s $15.99. Are you
sure you want to pay that much? Maybe there’s a cheaper one.”
“No, Mom. The black
and green is cool.”
“There’s a problem.
Read the title.”
“Zombie Strike,” says
Josh. “Dad will never go for that.”
