Hero

I’ve probably spent too much time in my past reading, studying and thinking about the Hero’s Journey. Something Joseph Campbell put together in his books about society and culture from history, myths to science fiction to real life. There’s a hero’s journey that most of us go on, some more epic than others, but there is this quest that takes us through our darkest parts into the light. Luke Skywalker, Jesus, Moses, and so many of the fables from our past. Most action and adventure movies have a version of this (think Thor in Avengers:Endgame)

I know I’ve written blogs before about my own journey, but that isn’t my focus right now. The truth is, sometimes our Hero is that person who’s just there all the time.

My nine-year-old son was asked to write a 5 to 6 sentence paragraph to explain who his hero was. I was excited when he told me that was the topic for the week. 

“Who did you write about?”

“I chose my mom.”

And for a fleeting moment my heart sunk. I think every father wants to think their son considers them their hero.

It hurt. Really hurt.

But the truth? He picked the right person. I’m not her biggest fan, but if I look at the situation from outside of my own emotions, even with all of our past, which there’s a lot, she has been the constant in his life, and I thank her for being a good mom.

I could easily be bitter, and of course I’m a little hurt. But I’m thankful to have the relationship I do have with him. Because four years ago I squandered that away. I didn’t care. About him or about myself. About anything.

Every day I thank God for my kids, this life, my sobriety. Yes, I’m sober (4 years in 7 days). And it gave me back time with my kids that I would not have had otherwise. My hero gave…

As for my 9 year old - 

He Didn’t pick me. 

But I pick him.

And I love him everyday.

~ Peace

The Burtle