Everyone has secret fears about parenthood. I was terrified of what would happen when my child cried. The screaming-at-the-top-of-the-lung cries that cut straight like a knife into your heart. I worried I would be unable to console him. That I would make it worse by my attempts to soothe. And even more secret: I was worried I would lose my patience with him or grow upset with him.
Sometimes when he cries, I get scared. I get worried. I get sad. And yes sometimes I have to really take a deep breath, whisper serenity now, and muster all the patience in every ounce of my being.
But in a weird way, I’m touched by his tears. This small little being who weighs barely 15 pounds cries as though there is no doubt that someone will do something to help ease what aches his heart. So much trust. We are only our truest selves with those we love most deeply even though sadly sometimes this ease of familiarity can also hurt those we love too. He loves me so much he doesn’t care how or how long he screams. He trusts that I will take care of him, provide for him, and find a way to take away the hurt behind the tears. That’s the kind of trust I could never betray.
And while two-hundred people on an airplane might not feel so zen-like about my son’s tears. I am honored that he trusts me. That he loves me. That I might somehow take those tears away.
**in unrelated news, the brass crescent awards are up again. I don’t usually post about it, but its nice to support our fellow bloggers, so if you love reading blogs check it out and partake in the nominations!”