Did your heart ever ache when one of us hurt? My two girls were over the other day. One down and out over love and the other down and out over stomach issues. I fed them some homemade bread like little birds as they sprawled out on the floor. I couldn’t help myself and grabbed the camera. A moment captured—me wishing I could take away their hurt. One physical and one emotional. But such is life. They’re smart and will figure things out. They’re a lot smarter than I ever thought to be at their age. Smarter than me now in a lot of ways.
I sometimes don’t always know what to do to comfort them. No offense, but you weren’t exactly the warm and fuzzy cozy kind of mom. It probably turned out to be a good thing—helped us to adapt better with your loss. But I have a tendency to question whether I’m doing the right thing. Sometimes I feel rather heartless and cold. “Buck up, get over it, better things are to come. If you think that’s bad, well I’ve gotta few stories for ya!” I’m usually more subtle than that, maybe.
I can say my heart aches worse for them than it does for my own stuff. Maybe it’s my age or maybe it’s a mother thing. I don’t really know.
Here are the little stinkers: