…at night when she’s fast asleep and she’s not needing me… To bathe her and feed her and kiss her boo-boos and walk with and read to and sing with and play with and pick her up and put her down and pray with and say “amen” with a huge grin…I pick her up and hold her in my arms, her open palm on my chest as though she’s feeling the beat of my heart. I listen to her breathe and I look at her peaceful face…and this moment calms me. She calms me. This same being who keeps me going is the same being that calms me.
My teenager wasn’t feeling well and I checked on her and tucked her in. And that simple act, that brief moment, calmed me. She keeps me informed about the different aspects of school and friends and social life… and I listen and pay attention and sift through the information and details and hold on to the important parts and I make sure she stays focused on her grades because “barely making it” is not an option. But it’s the moments where her head is on my shoulder or -the now rare moments- when I’m tucking her in that calms me.
I need them. Plain and simple. Probably as much as they need me.