Worry

Worry isn't manly.  I am a lifetime worrier. I am not manly.

Of course the logical fallacy in the statement above is obvious; or at least it's not true for me.  I've made a lifetime study of manliness and at some point in my son's early life, I concluded that the manner in which I was expressing fatherhood was about as manly as it gets.  Not action-seeking in wartime manly.  Not notches in the bedpost manly.  Just plain old bringing up mine with the best possible foundation for his own manhood, manly.

And the whole time I worried.  I used a certain amount of strictness and set high bars for behavior and contribution to the household in tending to my son (he's a very good kid with little tenable sass).  I tried to set the proper example by overtly engaging in needed tending of the castle; tending I expected my son to gravitate toward as he aged (he mostly hasn't, although at 14 he's getting better and I usually only have to ask three times now).  But I also worried that I demanded more of him than any kid of his age would ever realistically provide.  And that lead to the worry that from time to time he would feel as though he could not please me or that I had broken his own independent spirit.  I still worry about the former but fortunately appear not to have accomplished the latter (phew!).

And now I am worried about his arm.  That arm that has brought him so much positive attention and from which he's accrued so much self-esteem.  The arm with which he was striking out 10-year olds on the small diamond, only months after he turned 7.  The arm that we have nurtured, protected, developed according to methods recommended and overseen by experts.  The arm he injured pitching in a 13U travel baseball tournament two weekend ago.

He's a well-rounded baseball player and doesn't need to pitch to make appropriate contributions to his team.  But when he does, he has been very successful, and he's very taken by the process of developing his pitcher-self.  I derive no small measure of relief from my worry through his spirit demonstrated since right after the game in which he was hurt.  His gameness for a diagnosis.  His gameness to attack the physical therapy prescribed after obtaining that diagnosis.  His determination to get past this moment (he certainly views it as "momentary") and begin preparing for his first season as a high school player during the course of the coming off-season.

But having sustained serious ligament injuries in both my knees playing rugby through the years, I understand all too well the repercussions of potential under-diagnosis or under-treatment in this situation.  And so I worry that he won't get better with physical therapy, that his injury is too severe, and that he won't pitch again.  I worry because I care.  Whether or not it's manly to care.  Because this boy is a piece of me and the only authentic legacy of my wife and I.  And he deserves the greatest possible opportunity at self-actualization we can provide him.