Matthew rushed up and asked me to remove his sterling silver St. Christopher medal before our Saturday soccer game. As his coach I dutifully put it in my pocket. I forgot about it and after the game his mother emailed me asking if I still had it. Apologetically I had to reply that it was lost, presumably it fell out on the field, and I insisted that I pay for it.
"Absolutely not," she replied. "When you signed up for soccer coach it didn't include caretaker of the jewelry. We will keep looking and if turns up that is great. Otherwise I will hold off and get him another one in a few years. This is his 3rd in about 3 years."
I tried to let this one go, but couldn't:
"It's a bit of a disconnect that the medal of a saint who so loyally protects travelers and carries them across dangerous waters if necessary could be lost three times. Matthew's journey right now in his "tween" years is not an easy one. Perhaps this is a warning shot across the bow, so to speak, that next time around he should strive harder to put the chain in a special place so it will always be available when he needs it. I have a special relationship with an aspect of St. Christopher so I know how important it is."
Matt's mother declined to engage my response, but added more information:
"Actually, each time it hasn't been totally his fault. The 1st was lost over his head in the ocean after his grandfather told him it would be safe. (He's had his for 50 years.) The 2nd one was a cheap one and it broke. This time I forgot he couldn't wear it and wasn't thinking. Since he never takes it off, he wasn't thinking either."
Ah, this is such fertile ground. I desired so much to communicate what my spirit is telling me, but I'm his coach and I won't impose. So I'm writing here.
Imagine, his grandfather had his own for 50 years and was confident that the medal wouldn't be lost. As a mortal, he wasn't correct; it was lost. Small change notwithstanding. You know, many people have drowned in the ocean, but Matt lived to see another day. St. Christopher, protector of travelers, took the hit for him. Still, though his grandfather erred about the necklace, he was firm in his belief. After all, he had 50 years to show for it.
Last Saturday Matt "forgot"; he "wasn't thinking." And it was lost again, by the coach--the default protector of the protection, who "didn't...sign up" as "caretaker of the jewelry."
Did I or didn't I? How separate are the different hats I wear? What responsibilities do I bear? My son is on the team; aren't they "all my sons", as Arthur Miller famously wrote?
My son Manny seems to be in the same place. He forgets, he doesn't use his head, he loses everything. All of these affect everything he does, from home life to school to sports. He's eleven. I'm concerned to the point of desperation.
Matt's mother made a very wise point that I did not pick up on at first. If the medal doesn't turn up, she "will hold off and get him another one in a few years."
There's consolation for me in her patience and her confidence that Matt will eventually get it.
