It was the soccer state semi-final in my senior year of high school and my mom had to work. I don’t remember the final score of the game or the color uniform of the other team. I just remember the feeling of heartache at the end of the victory. When the parents crossed the field to congratulate their daughters, I was sitting down, quietly taking off my gear. I received a couple pats on the back from mothers, but not mine. I got home that night with my head hanging and my soccer bag dragging. My mother greeted me with an overenthusiastic, “Congrats!” I turned my head, acknowledged her, and headed to my bedroom. I was disappointed in her.

“I will be there for your final game when you win the state championships,” she said before I left for the semi-final game. But this was the first time that I wanted her to be there. I wanted to show her that ten years of rides to soccer practice and thousands of dollars spent on camps and trainers had finally paid off. I was enjoying the sport, and I felt confident in my abilities.

“I want you to be at this game. Mom, I’ve never asked you to come before,” I told her. It was true. I was fine when she wasn’t present at cross country meets or I didn’t hear her voice as I dribbled the ball down the sidelines during a club soccer game. However, something inside me wanted her more than anyone else to be present that day. And the fact that she wasn’t there is something I will never forget.

Often, painful memories reveal more emotion than happy ones. It is easy to remember the times when parents are not there, and easy to forget when they are cheering in a crowd of other parents. Doesn’t she love me? If she does, why don’t I see her supporting me? I want my mom for myself. I want her present at the times I tell her, but it isn’t that simple.

Sometimes I would try to discourage her from coming to my athletic and academic events saying, “It’s not a big deal.” I would feel embarrassed for the children whose mother’s clapping and cheering was heard from across the room. I would yearn to hide when my mom wanted to take pictures of me in my uniform. I would try to convince myself it was not a big deal, but every moment with my mom is a big deal. Her presence at my events let me know how much she loves and cares about me.

My mom didn’t show up for the semi-final game, but she was there when my team became soccer state champions. Although the memory of her absence won’t go away, I can’t wait to hear her voice at my next club soccer game. Having her there and hearing her screams means more than nothing at all.

By Reeciecup on Tuesday, March 22, 2005 - 02:23 pm:

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us moms. I guess I would like to look at things from your mom's point of view. I wonder how broken hearted she is that she couldn't be at every event you are in. It must be bittersweet that she is able to work to pay for the thousands of dollars of camps and trainers but then not be able to attend alot of the events. Please know that your mother does love and care about you. It is evident in the sacrifices she has made. Please tell her what you have told us - that hearing her voice at your next event means the world to you. I hope she is able to be there so the two of you have that special memory but remember if she isn't able to be there because she has to work that she is just as disappointed also. Maybe if events are taped the two of you could get a tape and watch it together.

By Hlgmom on Tuesday, March 22, 2005 - 03:06 pm:

How great to hear your point of view. I can still remember events that my parents did not attend! It is hard to handle sometimes! I am sure your mom is sad at not being able to share in your special day. Be sure and share this with her. Sometimes parents forget that kids don't always mean it when they say they don't want us around! I am sure she will make every effort if she truly realizes how important it is to you!