When They’re Five, And Good At It

Six years ago, my now 11-year-old, John, was 5, the age Jake is now.

Every day, John was in costume. I took Zorro to the grocery stores many times. One mother met my eyes and said I was lucky. If her son came dressed as his favorite character, he’d be wearing a giant yellow sponge.

John’s favorite Zorro cape was his Aunt Caroline blanket. I tied that thing every day. I twisted the corners so the knot wouldn’t be too big and choke him. I was really good at it. And I got cancer that year.

Michael talked to the boys about how they needed to pray for me and for the baby inside me. And one day while John was outside in his cape totally saving the day, he remembered Michael’s words and came inside to save me. I was on the bed, and he came to my side and said, “I just wanna pray for you, Mama.” He put his hand on me – oh so gently – and said “Father God. Please help Mama. Help her shoulder feel better. And help the baby. Amen”

Just look at that baby now. A few days ago, Jake was still playing near my chair and jumping up when I did to say, “I’ll help you walk, Mama,” wrapping his arm around my waist. But two days ago, I think he decided I was okay. And it was time to save the world. So he asked me to help him tie his cape – this one for a Batman costume instead of Zorro. And he told me he was off to save the world. A few minutes later, he knocked on the front door and asked, “Can I let Clay out, so he can be my Super Dog?” A few minutes later, he knocked on the front door to tell me how they’d saved the world and he’d given Clay a medal. A few minutes later, he knocked on the front door to ask if he could touch a dead bird. A few minutes later….

I think you get the idea. No more helping Mama walk. No more worrying whether Mama’s gonna be there and whether she’s okay. I’m back, Baby. And now Jake is saving the world.