Wear the cape. Ride fast.

Yesterday while I was trying to cook and clean, Benjamin was next to me pulling everything out of the cabinets to throw around the kitchen. It’s our working agreement. I handed him a shopping bag and empty granola bar box to add the to mix and kept working around him. The next time I looked down, he had swung that shopping bag over his head and created a cape, which he kept on for the rest of the evening. (The most adorable choking hazard.)  Benjamin is too young to know he created a cape, but it stopped me in my tracks. 

Sweet memories of Lifa crashing through the African wild on a bike, cape flowing in the wind, filled my heart. Lifa had a collection of capes that he wore for years. He chose his cape for the day just like you choose an outfit.  He had “handsome” capes and “play” capes. He still has an extra special one tucked away as a keepsake. That cape took him places. 

Lifa wore capes to become who he wanted to be.  Capes made him brave. When the world around him was ruthless, unjust or scary,  Lifa put on his cape. He felt powerful and free with that cape flowing behind him. Faster and stronger. 

Every day, we choose what we’re going to wear. We decide what to put on. We decide what role to play. The victim or victor. The conquered or the conqueror. We can stop in our tracks and ask, “Why me?” or we can put on our capes and fly, despite the circumstances. Lifa didn’t ruminate on what he was afraid of. He put on a cape, and he rode fast. 

Unfortunately for this smitten mama, he’s outgrown his capes. The truth behind the cape shines behind his smile and follows him on the rugby field. I’m so proud of my brave young man. He rehearsed bravery, strength and freedom so many times, it became who he is today. It didn’t come naturally and his circumstances certainly didn’t lend to his disposition. 

It’s what he put on. It’s what he practiced. 

Wear the cape. Ride fast.