“Are you Ok, Mommy?”…. my small girl has asked me every single day for the past week.
She has reached out to hug me, wrapping her tiny arms around me, pulling my head, not to hers, but to her chest, so that she might pet my hair….a comforting gesture I would like to think she has learned from me.
She has let me cry. Correction: She has encouraged me to cry. She hasn’t run away, wounded, frightened, that something in me is clearly broken at the loss of my friend… but instead, she is concerned, wise beyond her years, I suspect. She tilts her head in concern, her eyes locked on mine each time she asks, “Mommy, are you sure you are ok?”
We sat in church last Thursday night… Holy Thursday. The first strains of this song played…. followed by the first words, “How Beautiful“…. and the tears came. The song was sung at my wedding…. and the words reminded me instantly of my sweet friend. The grief continues to flow in waves…. leaving me at once secure in the strength of a cried-out soul and next teary-eyes wrapped in the arms of my littlest. My sweet small people didn’t panic…. their little grips on my hands tightened and Cooper reached up to wipe my face, “It’s ok, Mommy….”
At one point in the Mass, they prayed for “the sick, the lonely and the broken-hearted”…. Delaney’s hand squeezed mine once…twice…three times….our sign for “I love you” and she whispered, “Mommy…. they are talking about you”.
My sweet, sweet girl… at only seven, can see that a piece of my heart is broken and yet somehow knows that it is the comfort of her touch and her love that will help me to heal.
I never imagined myself on the receiving end of healing love from my children. I have always pictured myself, cape tucked firmly around my neck, ‘S’ for Supermom painted proudly on my chest swooping in to save their day and wipe their tears. Little did I know that their presence, their comfort could save me and dry mine.
I believe the love of your children can heal anything.