Inside Anthony

There are things that people do in life that makes sense to them but that others do not understand . These are individuals who put themselves out of their comfort zone, take chances and work to achieve their goals with all the mental and physical strength they have. Prepared, they go to battle to conquer their chosen task, worried about the outcome yet willing to take the risk. That is my son, Anthony.

Those who know Anthony, would describe him as a kind soul who puts the feelings of others ahead of his own. Much like the superheroes of movies and books that come to the rescue of those in trouble, Anthony is the one his friends and family call when they need help, advise or a good ear. He supports them and is there for them. But there is another side of him, the competitive side that pushes him beyond that self imposed Maginot Line. When he sets out to do something, watch out. He is in it to win and nothing or no one will divert him from his focus.

He got interested in boxing. First reading about it, to the point of becoming almost authoritative. He then went on to training at boxing gyms and not those glossy ones in the city for $200 a month. The ones in Paterson for five bucks at a time with experienced boxing trainers. Religiously, he trained every week and then on to sparing. And then, much to my concern, competing in the Golden Gloves.

I should not have been surprised when he told me he was going after the Golden Gloves. It was the natural path of action for Anthony. Many times, people talk about today’s young adults, called either the 20-Somethings or Generation Next, as slackers whose sense of accomplishment is in the thrill of the battle against the MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role-playing Game) of World of Warcraft. It is not in Anthony's character to watch from afar. He needed to be in the game and do it himself.

Watching Anthony put himself out on the front line is thrilling to follow. From the moment he is in the game, he is focused on the techniques of boxing and how to apply them. His study of he game is analytical, viewing others before him, learning from their technique and then using the knowledge in the ring. It is almost better to watch the progression rather than the fight, which, given my peace, love and understanding background, I find difficult.

On the surface, the sport of boxing seems so uncharacteristic of Anthony. He goes out of his way not to harm those he loves or cares about. If you show him respect, he will pay you back with the same and more. If it is a choice between sacrificing his own comfort or enjoyment at the sake of his friend or family member, he will take the hit. Having said that, however I have known him to come home after a bar fight that always seemed to end in his favor. It is not in his nature to hurt anyone, yet he will stand up for what is right. Maybe he should have been born in an earlier time – during WWII perhaps.

Anthony fought two Golden Glove matches. He won the first one easily with a unanimous decision. Last night, he lost the second bout and his hope of attaining the title has eluded him. As the old saying goes, “he might have lost the battle, but he won the war”. I know, the battle he fought was not in the ring. It was his inward battle to overcome his fears. He put himself on the line, away from the comfort zone, in front of others. He is recognized, respected and loved by friends and family for all that. As is his nature, he will go on to find another challenge, leaving behind those fears. There might have been a more easier, less painful route, but that is not who he is. He takes the hard road, learning as he goes. It is more interesting and more rewarding. Because he is Anthony.

Mother's Day 2009

Twenty four years ago, I made the decision to be a parent. At the time, I could not imagine my life without kids and still can't. I'm lucky. I didn't have to struggle much to get them, but it sure has been an adventure having them. I could tell you it was a joy all the way through but the truth is, there were challenges along the way. Last weekend was Mother's Day. I never want gifts, a card - one that expressed their feelings, was all I hoped for. I got what I wanted. I read the card that my eldest son picked that said "I see how you put your needs aside for me" and think that he may have realized that our social life revolved around his schedule and his friends and his enjoyment. The card my daughter picked said "I realize how lucky I was to have someone like you to depend on" and think of the days when she felt alone and needed our presence. And the Snoopy card my youngest chose offering a hug instead of a clean room - yeah that's right. They think so much of me yet, there is so much more that I wish I could do but know that I should not or can not do. I wish there was an easier road for them to take but there isn't. I cannot interfere with their choices in love even when I know the partner is so wrong for them. I can not make their coach pick them for a play even though I know they should be picked because they are that good. I cannot ask their friends not to disappoint them by canceling plans last minute. If I did, that would be the utmost sin a parent can do. These are the facts of life - it isn't always fair and there isn't any other way to learn it except to get through it. Yes, I deserve a lot of credit for doing the hardest thing a parent can do and that is not to parent. I let them fall and I don't sleep that night because I don't want them to feel the pain. I sometimes wonder how my own mother did it. I was not a perfect child. In my young adult years, I stayed out too late, dated the wrong guy and made the wrong choices about my future. I guess the answer is that she let me fall and because of it, things didn't turn out too bad after all. She never seemed to struggle with those decisions. She just seemed to me to be a smart woman who put her needs aside for me and for who I could depend on. I can only hope.

A Night To Remember

(that blur with the ball is Tom on the carry) It is 4 am and I can't sleep. Last night, I had too much wine. Last night, I told another man I loved him. Last night it was 30 degrees with a wind child that made it feel like 20 and Tony, Anthony, Christine and I sat in an open football field for 2 hours watching Thomas and his team in the deciding game of the high school football playoffs. In spite of the bitter cold, we were sweating it out. Both teams wanted this to go on to the State Championship. It is sudden death to the losing team; as a senior, your high school football career is over and you want to go out a winner. It is a scoreless first quarter. I don’t know how they are playing in this cold and without sleeves (it compromises their holding the ball). I am wearing everything I can think of to keep warm, and my lucky heart necklace. I prayed to my mother every time I see Thomas go in – she can help him, I know it. It is second quarter. Thomas is in. The quarterback gives the ball to him. And he runs, and he runs. And it’s Forest Gumpish. He is running 81 yards with a platoon of defensive linemen after him. They cannot catch him. He scores and the crowd goes nuts. In the second half, the opposing team came back and scored. After the third, it was us 7, them 10. The wind kicked in harder and it is colder, if that seemed possible. We are now officially freezing. It’s 2 minutes into the fourth quarter. The quarterback hands Thomas the ball. He runs and he runs. He does it! Tom scored again on a 39 yard run. After a 3 point field goal by us and what seemed like the longest quarter in history, Tom's team wins 17 - 10. He did it, its huge and its all about my kid! He's only 17 years old and when he is 30 and 40 and 50 years old, this day will live within him forever. He will remember this bitter cold night when he brought his team to victory. It is what I live for as a parent – my child’s success all on his own. His abilities, his accomplishment, his 15 minutes of fame. As is the case after every game, parents, coaches, players, cheerleaders and whoever else go to the after-game celebration at the local pub. Everybody came up to Tony and me and congratulated us. It was the team, I said. No one player can do it alone. But it was Thomas' in the spotlight. He gave up summers for 4 years to practice and be with his team. He worked at this and deserved it. Coach came to our table. He said my kid was great and very coachable. I told coach I loved him because of what he did for Thomas. I also thanked my mom. His MVP Trophy for the Playoff Game.

The Jersey Shawh

It's not spelled incorrectly. That is how it is referred to here, The Jersey Shawh, not shore - shawh We drop our Rs here in Jersey (or as they say, Jeasey). So it is the first weekend of summer and a considerable number of the population is down the shawh, uh shore. Each of the Jersey shore towns are distinct to different age groups. Its a shoreline that almost follows the generations in order. Starting with the most southern tip you have Cape May known for its Victorian B&Bs and good restaurants which attract childless couples, seniors and families with children between 10 and 16 years of age. Just north is Wildwood and Wildwood Crest where families with very young kids go. Then there is LBI (Long Beach Island) for families with teenagers. Then comes the towns furthest north of Cape May, Belmar and Point Pleasant. Belmar and Point Pleasant cater to the college age and above crowd. Now it starts to get rowdy with Tiki Bars and clubs. Finally, there is Seaside - the party town for high school seniors and juniors particularly after-prom or on Memorial Day weekend. In recalling the first time I got together with a group of girls to go to Seaside on Memorial Day weekend I was excited for a week before. It was like getting your first pair of high heels and finding a place worthy of wearing them. We rented some junky motel room which was fashionable decorated in a orange and brown shag rug. We had a plan to go to thee hot club on the boardwalk - with fake ID of course. Mine was so terribly fake, I didn't get in. But the night wasn't a total loss. I stood outside the club with all the other under 21s who didn't get in and found consolation on the beach - with a bottle of some horrible, cheap wine. Of course, I got so drunk, my night ended with me staring at the ceiling of my hotel room bed, hoping the room would stop spinning. Typical ending. Even now, writing about it makes my head hurt. So here it is 30 years later, and all the shore towns are the same as they were then. I wonder how that happens. Seaside has not lost its draw. It is still the place to be as a teen and on Memorial Day weekend. That crummy hotel is probably still there (and probably with the same shag rug) and booked to capacity with kids drinking their cheap wine or maybe now, expensive Cuervo but still getting sick off the balcony. This Memorial Day, I am sitting home. For those of you who didn't know, my poor husband came down with phenomena last week and after 4 days in the hospital and, oh the worse, missing his son's Fordham graduation, he is home recuperating. Luckily, he is practically as good as new. Also luckily, my kids are not down the shore. The older ones have been there, done that. Thomas, well next year he will be a senior and there will be after-prom. Let's hope he keeps his head from spinning.

Moments

Motherhood is not what I expected. Some of the most insulting thoughts and words ever bestowed on me have been by the very people I spent countless hours in labor giving birth to. At some point of their lives, well after the age of reason (whenever that was), my children have called me a psycho, looser and a nut job. This along with loosing my dignity in efforts to entertain them and their friends at sleep over birthday parties where I dressed as a witch and flew around the yard waving my arms with a plastic pitchfork trying to scare them (unsuccessfully), supervising the painting of pumpkins which led to one of the kids spilling half the paint on her pretty $40 dress that I then felt obligated to pay for, and sleeping on the deck, under the stars in the camp-out sleepover where the only ones who slept were those not at my house did I realize how hard this job actually was. I should have just taken them to Chuckie Cheese. Today is Mother's Day. In the past, I have gotten some very special gifts that my children have made me. From Anthony a rock covered with stamps. The topiary from Christine that is still in my bedroom. And the fake ruby ring from Thomas that I carry around for good luck. Motherhood is an adventure. I have my moments, some bad, some good. There are gifts I have gotten from my children that they don't know they gave me. Thomas has given me the opportunity to be part of the Armenian community by being involved with the youth group. I am somebody to a lot of people because I am a youth group leader. My daughter Christine has taught me the latest fashion trends. It was because of her I wear skinny jeans and shop at Urban Outfitter and people at work look at me as if I am cool. And Anthony. This week, Anthony, my oldest, is graduating Fordham University. He is the first person in my family to graduate college. Although it is great for him, it is also his gift to me. Awesome. Today, my kids gave me a Mother's Day present - an IPhone. It was great. I felt like a kid at Christmas. What impressed me the most was that they knew that I wanted this. Thank you my loves.