Last night,
I lay on the kitchen floor sobbing.
Great way to
start an entry, right?
Now, I know
I’m revealing a very personal moment, but I do have a purpose in sharing this.
Besides, I’ve shared much worse things on this blog, and from the very first
post have determined to be honest about life—more the way I think we should be
with each other.
This feeling
I was overcome with, it wasn’t depression, it was something much deeper. If I
tried to explain it, it wouldn’t make sense. My grief is my own, just as it is
for you. Let’s just say a pile of burdens was weighing me down, and I felt tired.
Just tired of all of it.
But here’s
where the beautiful part begins. As I said, I was sobbing, overcome with all of
these emotions and then as I was standing holding tightly to the counter a lovely
thing happened, well two lovely things actually. My dog with whom I have a
love/hate relationship came around the corner whining and whimpering. Now, he
never does this with me, and, maybe, I’m reading too much into it, but I really
think the little bugger was bothered by my crying, maybe even concerned for me.
I felt so
touched that I sat down on the kitchen floor. As he approached, my sobs began
to subside. I was still crying, but it wasn’t a tormented cry, just a tears
rolling down my cheeks kind of cry.
Then, I
heard the front door open. It was my daughter. She was looking for me. In that
moment I had a choice to make, I could wipe my tears and pretend that nothing
was wrong, or I could be honest with her, letting her know that parents are
people too; that we hurt, feel pain, cry. I decided to choose honesty and with
this decision, I took a deep breath waiting for her to come around the corner.
As she
entered the kitchen a look of surprise came over her. I could see the question
in her eyes—why is Mommy crying? Katie approached and knelt down beside me and
the questions began.
“Mommy, why
are you crying?”
“I’m just
really sad, Baby.”
“Do you have an owie, Mommy?
“Yes, I do.”
“Where does
it hurt?”
All choked up, I responded, “My heart hurts,
baby.”
The look of surprise
now turned to tenderness, and Katie reached out to put her hand over my heart, comforting
me as if I had fallen down and scraped my knee.
“Mommy, can
I pray for you?”
“Yes, baby I
would like that.”
With that,
she bowed her head and began one of the sweetest prayers I’ve ever heard—one that
I will treasure forever:
“Dear God,
Please help Mommy to feel better. Help her heart to feel better and help her to
know that you are always with her.”
Out of the
mouths of babes, right? It was a magnificent prayer. Wiping my tears away, I
embraced my daughter telling her that I loved her with all my heart, and that
her prayer was working because my heart was already feeling better.
In this
parenting endeavor, I sometimes wonder if I’m doing anything right. But
watching my baby girl bow her head and pray for me got me to thinking, ‘Maybe I
am doing some things right.’ By the way, her prayer really was answered; today,
my heart doesn’t feel so burdened. All thanks to a little girl who just wanted
to help her mommy feel better. Amen.
