When our children were young, every scrape, bruise, and bump were grounds for tears. The offended appendage held aloft like the rings on a ring bearer's pillow as the child ran in search of that miraculous kiss from a mother's lips that heals all boo-boos.
As they grew, the causes of their tears grew too. They no longer ran to me with their every day scrapes, bruises, and bumps. An ice pack here, a band-aid there - who needs a kiss from mom to heal a paper cut? As their worlds expanded to include friends and teachers, some of those scrapes, bruises, and bumps that previously had only been lacerations of the skin now pierced their hearts.
Oh how I wanted to protect them from the pain of rejection, the pain of being mocked, the pain of failure. When I couldn't prevent the pain, I wanted to heal their hurting hearts with my words, my touch. I wanted to make everything better in an instant. Of course, I couldn't do that, and they had to learn to deal with the emotional and mental pains of life just as they had learned to deal with the physical pain of life.
They're both adults now. Both married. Both live in other cities. The past couple of months I've had to watch as one very adult-sized problem after another bore down on my daughter's heart. This past week, topped it off as she was accused of the unthinkable. There was nothing anyone could do for her. No magic words. No maternal kiss could make this go away. I wanted to fix it for her. Make it all better just like I used to be able to do some twenty-five years ago when she would toddle up to me with an invisible owie in desperate need of a kiss.
I had no words to console. I had no action to offer. I could only be with her. I could only stand by her - let her know that she's not alone. Sometimes that's all we have. Sometimes that's all someone needs.
As they grew, the causes of their tears grew too. They no longer ran to me with their every day scrapes, bruises, and bumps. An ice pack here, a band-aid there - who needs a kiss from mom to heal a paper cut? As their worlds expanded to include friends and teachers, some of those scrapes, bruises, and bumps that previously had only been lacerations of the skin now pierced their hearts.
Oh how I wanted to protect them from the pain of rejection, the pain of being mocked, the pain of failure. When I couldn't prevent the pain, I wanted to heal their hurting hearts with my words, my touch. I wanted to make everything better in an instant. Of course, I couldn't do that, and they had to learn to deal with the emotional and mental pains of life just as they had learned to deal with the physical pain of life.
They're both adults now. Both married. Both live in other cities. The past couple of months I've had to watch as one very adult-sized problem after another bore down on my daughter's heart. This past week, topped it off as she was accused of the unthinkable. There was nothing anyone could do for her. No magic words. No maternal kiss could make this go away. I wanted to fix it for her. Make it all better just like I used to be able to do some twenty-five years ago when she would toddle up to me with an invisible owie in desperate need of a kiss.
I had no words to console. I had no action to offer. I could only be with her. I could only stand by her - let her know that she's not alone. Sometimes that's all we have. Sometimes that's all someone needs.
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