Emotional Rescue

I want to be the hero. Who doesn't love a hero? Always adored, can never do wrong, earns the undying gratitude of the damsel in distress. Heroes never die or get dirty. Heroes have perfect hair & perfect teeth. Yes, when I grow up, I want to be a hero.

But life gets involved, has other plans for you. You never make that daring rescue because you were taking your Political Science final. Do heroes have college degrees?

You don't battle the evil villain because your mom needed you to clean out the gutters on her house. Do heroes have mothers?

You never intercepted a bomb being sent to the president because you had to go to the store for more diapers and bananas and yogurt. Do heroes have babies?

It's strange how we don't always get what we want the way we want it. It is only when we come to recognize all we have that we appreciate who we are. It is not for ourselves but for others that we become heroes, in spite of our own belief or lack thereof.

When we lack the conviction to dream, our friends and family help us up, stand behind us. They make us heroes in their eyes when we succeed. When we commit to the daily grind of school or a job, we become heroes to those that count on us and want the best for us. When we share ourselves and give life to another human, we will always be heroes to them.

I never thought that at 5 foot 10, a few pounds heavier than I'd like to be, greying hair, and with glasses I would be the archetypal everyday hero. But here I am, getting comfortable with that idea, and waiting for the next big catastrophe.

I think the gas tank is almost on "E".