Dear daughters,
Your pain is my pain. It’s part of the complex mother-daughter bond. It’s an unwritten contract between us. Your pain is my pain and I seem to be in a lot of pain these days.

Brenna, you are hurt again. Your back. Again. You haven’t made it through your last couple basketball games and many of your practices. You are stressed and frustrated and disappointed and worrying about the upcoming AAU season. You were hurt for 90% of last year with bulging discs and then a torn PCL/meniscus in your knee, so your frustration is justified—you had very high hopes for this year. Shay, this year has brought you a plethora of injuries and pains: back, knees, and this mysterious wrist/arm injury that has plagued you for months now. What do all of these injuries have in common? They are sports related.

Your pain is my pain.

We are a sports family, so we kind of have to expect the unexpected and roll with it when it happens. The two of you genuinely enjoy all of the plusses of being part of a team sport: the physicality, the team bonding, the friendships, the competitiveness. All of it. You willingly and eagerly put in the time and do the work, year round. As parents, we love the positive off-the court (field) aspects of organized sports. We know that competitive athletes are less likely to engage in risky behavior (drinking, drugs, sex, etc). Athletics boosts self-esteem and social skills and also teaches countless valuable lessons in team work, character, and emotional development. Kids who play competitive, organized sports simply don’t have the time to hang around, unsupervised (which is when trouble tends to happen and bad decisions are made). And, let’s not forget the positive, mood-boosting, health-boosting effects of exercise—given that, you two should be two of the happiest people on earth and live to be 120 for all the exercise you get. 🙂

I am so happy you are both involved in activities you love and I am unequivocally your biggest cheerleader. I find joy in your joy and I am just so happy I have the privilege of bearing witness to the way you two grow and evolve as athletes, as students, as humans. You both inspire me in ways seen and unseen each and every day and I would willingly follow you on a million weeknights and weekends for the honor of watching you grow and play and compete.

But, I suffer a chink in my armor every time I watch you get hurt and suffer physical pain.
Your pain is my pain.

The bone crunching body contact, and the awkward, unnatural angles that your bodies take when hitting the floor and trying to absorb that contact—it physically and emotionally hurts me to watch. With every concussion, every bloody nose, every set of stitches, every sprain, every strain, every tear, break, bulge, and bruise—I cringe. I worry. I wish I could be like John Coffey in The Green Mile and literally suck the pain out of your bodies and absorb it myself. I would do that for you, I truly would.

Short of having that John Coffey magic (and being able to wrap you in bubble wrap), the best I can do is be there for you. I can dust you off, I can help heal you when you are hurt, I can take you to doctors appointments and MRIs, I can hug you, and love you, and cry with you, and tell you everything is going to be alright. I can’t prevent the inevitable bumps, breaks, and bruises, but I CAN help you remember that you are bigger and braver than any pain you might face, whether it be physical, emotional, or some other manifestation of it. Pain has an inverse relationship with strength and resilience.

I have no way of knowing what the future holds. But I do know this: if and when you go on to have children of your own someday, their pain will be your pain and you will both be so well equipped to be there for them. You’ve been training for it most of your young lives and you’ll be strong enough to handle it…just like I am.

I love you dearly.
XOXO
Mom