Today is a special day for my mother. She shows me what it's like to play in the fourth quarter in the game of life. She reminds me of my favorite football team, the San Diego Chargers. There were many consecutive seasons when the team finished with a dismal 6-10 record. What's similar is that year after year neither my mother nor the Chargers ever give up. They both make half-time adjustments. They know the game is never over until the play clock expires. I wish I could present my mother with some kind of trophy to honor all her years of perseverance.
Mom may not play football; she prefers cheering for her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren in whatever sport or endeavor they may pursue. She encourages me to stay in the game even when the other side throws eggs on my bus. She's a big believer in the Hail Mary. I will never forget how she rallied our team when our quarterback returned for a brief appearance. No huddle was necessary. We knew the play call when she looked into our dad's eyes for the last time. It was in that precious moment I realized none of the previous seasons mattered. All those 6-10 years were in the past. Mom filled the stands with fans who welcomed dad home for his last play. Against all odds, Dad found the end zone one last time. Years of working on the Hail Mary paid off. All was forgiven. And the quiet woman behind the team who never stopped believing is responsible for the outcome. Happy birthday, Mom. Enjoy your special day. May all your birthday wishes come true.
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