Underdog

Those who have been following this blog for a while know that my mother died of pancreatic cancer last year. She was 51 years old.
I took a walk to the park today to swing on the swings. It may sound silly, but it’s a normal part of my daily routine when the weather permits, and it gives me time to clear my head and think. Sometimes I take my two-year-old daughter and let her play on the slides or throw bread to the ducks and the squirrels, but today I went by myself. It was a lovely sunny day, a bit of a cloud cover but not at all rainy, which made it the perfect weather in my book.
As I was swinging on the swing today, I leaned back and closed my eyes, and suddenly a memory came to me. It was the memory of myself playing at the park with my mother when I was a little girl. I remembered her pushing me on the swing and me begging her to give me underdogs, which she always did with a grin. She seemed to love giving them as much as I loved getting them. I hadn’t thought of that memory in so long.
A little girl about 5-7 years old came and sat down a few swings over, so I decided to clear out and give her some space. I’m wary of parents worrying about their child hanging around a lone adult on the swings. As I started to slow down, the little girl said, “Excuse me, grown up person? Could you push me?” I checked to make sure her parents were watching—they were, from the other side of the playground—and I said okay.
As I started to push her she said, “Give me an underdog!” I smiled. I gave her the biggest, highest underdog I could muster with all six feet of my height. I heard her cry “Whoa!” as I cleared her.
I go to that park almost every day, and I’ve never had a kid ask me for an underdog, much less on the day that I suddenly remember my own happy childhood memories of Mom giving me underdogs. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but I like to think it was something more.
Next time you take your kid to the park and let her play on the swings, give her an underdog. From my mom.

Comments

Underdog — 7 Comments

  2. Is an underdog where you push the passenger so high that you can run right underneath her when she reaches the highest point on the swing’s arc?
  4. Awww, I just got back from the park with my girls (and their two friends—that’s six in all!). Lots and lots and lots of underdogs all around!
  5. I’m not sure what an underdog is but that was a wonderful post! Thanks for sharing.
    (I feel like I’ve missed out on part of childhood….)
  6. Underdogs are pretty much what Rob described in his question. You run under the swing with the child in the swing and hike them up into the air as you pass under and clear them.
  7. That’s such a sweet story. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to have lost your mom while so young. My grandmother passed away from MS when my mom was around the same age as you (she was 28), and I know it’s been hard on her, especially after losing her dad as well four years later. Parents just shouldn’t die that young!
    When my son gets old enough for me to do underdogs with him (he’s only 16 months now), I’ll do one for your mom. And I promise I’ll remember. Hugs to you!
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