broken

Today you were teased on the playground, picked on for a reason neither of us can really understand.  It will not be the last time, it may not have even been the first.  But it was the first time it hurt bad enough for you to tell me.  It was the first time you felt like you couldn’t take it anymore, like it was too much to carry on your own.  And it was the first time, of many many more to come, that my heart broke with yours at the pain.  Because, I know.  I know the pain, I understand the hurt, I have felt it too.  Because, I know. I know that I can’t fix the pain, not in any singular way.  I can’t kiss it away, or bandage it away, or give you Tylenol in a tiny cup.  No ice pack, no washcloth, no brushing it off, can make it disappear.  I know that boys you thought were your friends let you down today.  I know that in that moment you second guessed who you were and what you were doing and why it wasn’t right, why you were different from them.  You wondered if it was something you could change, if it was a change worth making, if it was something you could fix.  I know you wondered if they have done this to anyone else, or if you were the only one.  I know you wondered if it will happen again; and how you can step gingerly around it now.  Around these boys, you may no longer consider friends, around the pit of pain and confusion inside of you, and around the monstrous hole left in the space where trust and friendship and carefree playground days used to be. 

My heart broke.  My heart broke as if it were happening to me too.  Because, You are my heart.  You always have been and you always will be.  Even before you were my boy, you were in my heart; as a dream, as a maybe, as a hope.  Your heart and mine are one.  Your breathe my breathe, your pulse my pulse, every step you take a step of my own, no matter how far away from me you go.  And so it is: that what you love, I love too.  And when your heart breaks, breaks mine too.  When you hurt, I hurt too. And when your heart breaks, my heart breaks too.  Today on the playground when you were pushed and teased, you were broken.  And I was too.  Today, when you were picked on, you lost a piece of your innocence, an important piece of you. 

But, you know what else, my boy?  Today, today you grew.  You grew into a boy who knows the pain that others can afflict.  You know how people can let you down.  You know, on a level different from before, that people can do terrible things.  Today, you grew.  You grew into a boy that has to stand up for himself.  That can use words, not force, to tell others how you feel.  You grew into a boy that will stand up for others so that they don’t feel like you did: hopeless, afraid, alone.  You, my child, will keep growing.  Grow into a person who loves, who fights for people, who understands others’ pain.  Today, I saw you growing before my very eyes.  As I told you it’s okay, that this happens to everyone, I watched a tear flee your eye and fall from your soft cheek to the floor.  And when I told you that I love you, you threw your arms around my neck and told me you loved me too. 

You, my boy, are phenomenal.  You are a wondrous sight to see.  You are a boy who loves and cares; who obeys and listens to others carefully; who encourages and spreads joy always; who chooses what is right and good (at least most of the time).  You are passionate and funny and compassionate; you are sensitive and cautious and truth seeking.  You are observant and intuitive, and you understand the complicated things of life without an explanation.  And that is why I know you will be okay; broken heart, monstrous hole, loss of innocence and carefree days, still you will be okay.  You, my Asher boy, will be more than just okay.  You will learn more each and every day, that your worth does not lie in what anyone else thinks of you, or what they have to say to you.  You are who you are.  And who you are is beautiful.  You are phenomenal, a wondrous sight to see.  You have always been, and I am sure you always will be.

Comments

  1. Such a good mommy. I wish all little boys had a mum like you.

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