release
March 15, 2011 § 3 Comments
As we sat down to dinner, my son’s body crumpled into itself. Placing a hand on his back I felt him lean into me like the toddler that used to seek my lap. At the sound of my words, “Are you okay?” his face fell as quickly as his tears; recognition offering permission to let go. He holds so much of himself tucked away, like the treasures he gathers in his pockets. Thoughts flow more freely than feelings and I wonder often at those things left unspoken.
My daughter releases her emotions in powerful purging; words and tears, wholeheartedly, she shoves her emotions in front of her. Sometimes the storm of emotion whirling around her exhausts us both as she fights through feelings; her strength often keeping help at bay. I stand nearby, arms outstretched, trying to draw her through; offering comfort and a willingness to share the burden.
I wonder when we first begin to lock up our needs and how long each of us waits to share the burden of anger, hurt, even joy. This is a lesson I too struggle with. Joy so often feels fragile that I nestle it cautiously in my heart, terrified to grasp it firmly, fearful it might slip through my fingers. This truth came to me when my son, years ago, asked what my real laugh sounded like. It was such a pure question, laden with innocence and curiosity. He was looking for the joy I hide.
I cannot undo my mistakes any more than I can teach what I am still learning. Instead I am trying very hard to find my way as a mother, learning beside my children as we each embrace and share challenges.
scribblechic 
This could not be more beautiful. From its inception, through its crafting, you’ve nicked something here. And the truth at its core is so beautiful I can hardly bear it.
Very thought provoking.
I keep returning to your words, curious to gather your insight.