“Don’t give up the ship.”

A couple of Saturday mornings ago, my 13-year-old son, Tyler, and I rode our bikes to the Scituate Lighthouse. 

It’s one of his favorite places, and as long as we get there early enough in the morning, it’s one of mine, too. 

On that particular morning, I came across a little plaque on the jetty rocks, commemorating a battle that took place right off of Scituate Harbor during the War of 1812. 

I’d never noticed it before.

Impressed with my find, I called Tyler over to read it. I figured I’d give him one of those awesome impromptu mom-history lessons. 

He looked at the plaque, then at me. His face momentarily contorted into an expression of, “duh,” but he quickly fixed it.

“Oh, yes Mom. This was about an American sea captain during the War of 1812. It was hopeless, his ship was defeated by the British so quickly. As he was dying, he said, ‘Don’t give up the ship.’ It became a Navy motto. People say it all of the time. But because it happened here in Scituate, it’s special to us. People around town have flags that say it- have you never noticed?”

I hadn’t. 

As we rode our bikes home, I started to notice the flags. They weren’t everywhere, but they were around. There was one flying on someone’s front porch right as we we began pedaling up a tough hill. 

As I pushed down hard on my pedals, trying to keep up with my determined son, I thought about all of the opportunities, especially lately, that we’ve had to “not give up the ship.”

• For some of us, it’s a job or a business that’s teetering on the edge because of lost income.

• For others, it’s continuing a workout routine, even when everything sucks and it just doesn’t seem to matter. 

• For many, it‘s getting out of bed for another day, when nothing is normal, and everything feels divided and has an extra layer of hard. 

We all have our ships to not give up. 

On the way home, I noticed two more blue flags, gently waving in the morning breeze. 

When we got home, Tyler and I put our bikes away, and I pulled my phone out. I ordered a flag of our own. 

It’s flying directly behind my kitchen window, because that’s the very spot- usually when I’m loading or unloading the dishwasher, waiting for the coffee to brew, or pouring a glass of wine at night- that I need the reminder whispered to me:

Don’t give up the ship.