You may notice that this post has a bit of a different voice than the ones you’re used to reading on Finding Ninee. My husband Robert wrote it, in response to this week’s Finish the Sentence Friday prompt of “Dear Mom…”
— From a dad, who thinks his wife gave his special needs son the world
The clock at Rose Bowl reads 15 seconds. It is the 4th Quarter of the BCS Championship game between Alabama and Tennessee. The stadium is both shaking and silent with half the crowd of 100,000 fans chanting “Defense”, Defense!” The other half is quiet in anticipation of the touchdown that would win the game.
There are no timeouts.
In the crowd stands an elderly couple in their sixties wearing pullovers with a “T” emblazoned on their chests, their eyes glued to the field below. The anxiety shows on their faces. Their pride and joy is on the 15 yard line.
The quarterback, a strapping 6’ 4” lad with ice-blue eyes and demeanor to match, brings his team to the line. He directs the slot receiver to the other side of the formation with three receivers on the other side. The first team All-American signal-caller, confident the play will work, barks the cadence. The ball is snapped. The quarterback takes the snap and fakes the handoff to a diving running back. The fake freezes the safety….
The signal-caller for the title waits in the corner of the end zone. He brings the ball up to release the pass…
The future first-round draft-pick with victory a second away never throws that pass. Instead, he crashes to the turf as another 6’ 4” lad with ice-blue eyes tackles the stunned signal-caller who fumbles the ball.
Tennessee’s All-American defensive end Tucker Campbell raises his fists to the sky in celebration. He looks into the crowd, searching for the elderly couple, and, especially his Mom, who always believed in him. He points at his Mom, Kristi, and silently mouths a thank you to the woman who helped him overcome so much.
Dad just hopes his wife will let him live in the new house Tucker will buy his mother after next May’s NFL draft.
“Ground Control to Major Tucker”….”Ground Control to Major Tucker…”
”This is Major Tucker…go ahead, over.”
“Slow to 100,000 kilometers per hour…bring the ship to 050 degrees.”
Major Tucker complies. His ship, the latest craft named Enterprise, eases into orbit . The planet below is breathtaking. Having spent the last six months en route and the last three years in training, Major Tucker stares down at the red dusty planet below. The first-manned mission to Mars.
His eyes mist over a little as he reaches into his uniform pocket, retrieving a personal communication device. The device lights up and he opens the image of a smiling woman. The image is not a gorgeous girlfriend, or his stunning spouse, but a woman in her late sixties, who is the most beautiful person in his world.
He mutters a thank you… and— I love you Mom. For, without his mother, he would never have overcome a severe speech delay and what some doctors said was autism to graduate college with honors, receive a commission as an officer in the U.S. Air Force, gone to flight school, and been accepted into a revitalized space program.
Dad, watching the event with the rest of the world, sees his long-time spouse’s jubilation. He just hopes her overwhelming joy will last and keep him out of the dog house for at least few days…ah maybe not.
The man rushes his wife into the entrance of the hospital. She braces for the next contraction as they speed to the delivery room.
Eleven hours later, through tears and joy….a new life enters the world. The man looks in awe at the little person and instantly falls in love.
The couple had waited to name the baby, a girl, but now are sure and decide on Kristi, after his mother.
The cycle begins anew….He just hopes he can give his daughter the world like his Mom gave to him.
This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post. The sentence is “Dear Mom…” Kerri, from Undiagnosed, but Okay (mom to Tucker’s future prom date and more) thought of this week’s sentence, and is therefore your happy co-host. Please go show her some extra love.