Mama, Remember Your Child

My daughter got hurt. A minor hurt, a bump. Enough to whine over, enough for feigned baby talk and whimpering. Me? I wanted to get on with it, shut it down. “Cut it. Cut the whining. You’ll be fine.” Cause that’s me, left to myself.

Instead, I put off that “me” and on the self I know she needs. I pulled her into my arms, and there she began to cry. To weep.

It’s been a hard, hard time for such a little soul. She lost her (foster) sister and has carried the grief in undefined but clearly felt & acted out ways. She is deeply affected by the sun (or lack thereof) and the depression that’s been hidden in her bones since infancy rears its ugly head each long & hard winter. She carries on her shoulders, in her heart, a history of trauma, neglect, abuse, and loss.

From her bump, my daughter had a tiny red mark on the small of her back. But she carries other, deeper, unseen wounds. I hugged her for the one, but I held her for the others.

Mama, remember your child—in all of their emotions and needs, history and complexity. And if, in the remembering, like me, you’re overwhelmed by weight of it, aware of how little you can do to “fix it,” unsure what they need...just hold them in your arms and hug ‘em through it.