Print Blog
Email a FriendThat may be the loveliest thing I’ve read in a while. Thank you.
If You Knew What I Know ...
You wouldn't feel sorry for me
by Susie Lloyd in Family on Sunday, August 21, 2011 9:06 PM
You know how it is.
Your kid wants to tell you all about something. You know it must have been great and you do want to hear it. Later. When you’re done here. You’ve just got to finish this one thing. Then you’ll sit down and she can tell you all about it.
You keep your word. But you find something to keep your hands busy - laundry folding maybe - so that you don’t waste time while she tells you. You say, “That’s so cool, honey. Wow. Awesome. Good for you.” But your voice is flat.
It’s not that you don’t care. It’s just that your mind is on other things.
My ten year old came to me just that way about camp with the nuns in New Hampshire. When we were done talking, I was satisfied. She was satisfied. She had great time. It was good for her. La-de-da-da. Fine. Great. Go out and play now.
And then ...
One afternoon, my battery was low. I just couldn’t do much of anything. After one measly job—changing out of my pajamas - I crashed on the bed, backwards, and upside down, like somebody dropped me there from a helicopter.
The ten year old wandered in and found the wreakage. She assessed the situation and grabbed a handful of my hair.
Ah….... my favorite thing.
She made me her pet. Running her hands through my hair, putting it up in silly styles.
I vaguely remembered that I had work to do. But since I couldn’t command my muscles to move, I gave up and let her work on me.
She chattered to me the whole time, having fun, trying on my jewelry, holding the gems two inches from my face so I could see. I opened one eye obligingly.
Her talk flowed effortlessly into her time at camp. Yes, she had told me about it already. I had affirmed her with a flat, disinterested, “Cool, honey. Awesome.” or something.
Now she held me captivated with a joy relived. She told me about her favorite nuns - the one who taught crafts and the one who taught drama. She told me about silly hair night and how she went as a toasted marshmallow. And about the girl with spaghetti head who won. I was not her pet anymore; I was her girlfriend and she was letting me into her heart.
Her hands, her voice, her energy, cured me of fatigue. Of discontent. Of workaholism.
I wished everyone who looks at children and fears them - who can imagine only noise, and bills, and attitude, and a threatening loss of self - who actually feel SORRY for me - could have their hair pulled by my ten year old girlfriend and know what I know.
The love of a child. It’s the fulfillment of ... something ... I didn’t know I needed, couldn’t have asked for, couldn’t expect, couldn’t deserve, couldn’t buy, couldn’t plan and couldn’t schedule.
It’s a gift.
—Senior writer Susie Lloyd is author of Please Don’t Drink the Holy Water! and Bless Me Father For I Have Kids.
Comments
Page 1 of 1 pages
Posted by Karen Edmisten on Monday, Aug 22, 2011 12:22 AM (EDT):
Oh, so beautiful and perfect, Susie.
Posted by Maria on Monday, Aug 22, 2011 4:55 PM (EDT):
I just got back from dropping my second of 3 children off at college….in Maryland, from Boston. This post spoke loud and clear to me. My youngest is 15 and two are gone for most of the year now. How I miss those days of “hairdressing!” I know what you know and I know the gift….and now I’m jealous!!
I just had my 9th baby. My 11 and 7 year old daughters were tending to me Sunday morning, bringing me water, snacks, and so on. They noticed my poor swollen feet, and began to rub them, while they talked about how excited they were about their new brother. One ran to get the good lotion, and for twenty minutes they rubbed my feet, soothing me, and sharing our joy. Nothing like this in the world to compare, I tell you!!
Posted by Donna-Marie Cooper O'Boyle on Tuesday, Aug 23, 2011 9:18 AM (EDT):
Aww, I can just feel the emotion in your story. Very beautiful! Thank you for sharing it, Susie. I have had very similar experiences with my children and have written about them too. And to think that our children are such precious treasures who actually help to open the gates of Heaven for us while we are working hard at getting them to heaven too! Amazing how God works!
Posted by Susie on Wednesday, Aug 24, 2011 4:15 AM (EDT):
So needed to read this story right now! I’ve been floored by the odd reactions I’ve gotten when sharing the news that my husband and I are expecting number four. You would have thought that I’ve been diagnosed with an incurable illness. Well, I guess in a way I have and I couldn’t thank God more for the gift of being sick in love with my husband and now four lovely children!
Posted by Sharon on Tuesday, Aug 30, 2011 9:47 AM (EDT):
Susie,
So many times have I walked in those same shoes. Trying to do two or three jobs at once. Listen to my child while doing at least one other job. Then somehow God always has a way of putting me in my place. God, help me to see that my time with your children is precious. That when my children speak to me it is you speaking to me.
Post a Comment
By submitting this form, you give Faith And Family Magazine permission to publish this comment. Comments will be published at our discretion, and may be edited for clarity and length. For best formatting, please limit your response to one paragraph and don't hit "enter" to force line breaks.
