Friday, May 7, 2004

Moms Are superheroes

By RICK RYCKELEY
Contributing Writer

The world has seen many superheroes, all blessed with fantastic powers that defy explanation. Superman can fly, has x-ray vision, super strength, and super hearing. The Flash runs faster than the speed of light. Batman defeats any criminal and gets out of the tightest spots with the cool gizmos from his utility belt. The Hulk turns into a big green guy who stomps around and yells a lot when he gets mad. The Boy would say he’s a lot like me.

But the world’s greatest superhero you can’t read about in a comic book and you won’t see walking the dark streets, looking to foil criminals or even up on the silver screen. If you want to see the world’s greatest super hero, just look in the kitchen or in the stands at your next soccer game. Look for the person who drops you off at school before she goes to work, leans over and kisses you goodnight or takes care of you when you’re sick. Just look for your mom.

Moms are the greatest superheroines of them all.

When my mom came home from the hospital with her first child, Big Brother James, she came home not just with a baby. She came home with much more. Superpowers! The first power that she developed was super hearing.

As soon as James was born, Mom could hear the slightest coo, whimper, or cry from around the corner, down the hall and into the next bedroom. The super hearing continued to develop with the birth of each of us, and soon she knew the difference between a scream for attention and a scream when one of us got hurt. Her super hearing was so developed that by the time I was seven, she could listen to the stories we told her and could tell right off whether we were telling the truth or not. We usually got our stories past Dad, but not past Mom’s super hearing.

Big Brother James and Older Brother Richard were playing a game of chicken while they rode their bikes out in front of our house. Richard won; James lost. He swerved, crashed his bike, hit his head on the curb, and split it wide open — his head, not the curb. James screamed. Before we knew it Mom was out the front door and running across the lawn faster than the Flash. Like Superman, she scooped him up with her super strength, put him in the green station wagon with wood panels and drove to the hospital! Mom really did have super powers.

Batman may have his trusty utility belt with all of those cool gizmos that get him out of some tight spots, but my mom had a purse the size of a small suitcase. In it was everything she needed to be super. From that purse, Mom retrieved the two nail files and handkerchief that she used to splint Twin Brother’s Mark finger right after James said, “Here, hold this while I hit it with a hammer.”

The first day of fourth grade at Mount Olive Elementary when Bully Brad chewed up a whole pack of Bazooka Bubble Gum during recess, chased me down and stuck it in my hair, Mom used a pair of scissors from the purse to cut most of it out. Her purse had just about everything she needed to help us out of any situation we got ourselves into: two finger nail files, assorted band aids, giant finger nail clippers, rubber bands, super glue, super glue remover, tape, a little tube of white grease for unsticking stuck fingers, scissors for cutting bubble gum out of hair, bubble gum, candy, bobby pins, and safety pins. But there was one thing in her purse we all hated to see her reach for. Napkins!

Like most moms, my Mom would always have an endless supply of napkins in the front zipper pocket of her purse. Napkins always ready “to keep her little darlings’ faces clean” were only one lightning fast zip away. Anytime, anyplace, if we had a messy face, Mom would pull out a napkin, dip a corner of it into a glass of water and scrub. Not just us, but any kid. After the watermelon-eating contest at the Flamingo Street July 4th cookout, I’d thought she’d scrub the freckles off Goofy Steve before she stopped! And if there wasn’t a glass of water nearby, that didn’t stop her mission of keeping us all spotlessly clean. Nope. She’d just lick a corner and go to scrubbing.

I witnessed the birth of a baby last week; truly a miracle. All pain the new mom felt was over in an instant. The pain was replaced with an overwhelming joy. Bringing a child into the world Ð what a super feat! Sometimes I think we’re so caught up in living life that we’ve forgotten the wonder of how life starts. My Mom had FIVE kids. She really had super powers, just like all the mothers out there on this Mother’s Day.

Moms are the real superheroines. Not just this day, but everyday.

[Rick Ryckeley is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and Emergency Services. He can be reached at saferick@bellsouth.net.]