I Feel Your Pain

Last night, in a fit of domesticity, I was zooming around the house trying to get the garbage and recycling to the curb before you opened the drawer with the vitamins in it again or managed to crack another bottle in the pantry. As I lifted the recycling bin a large cement block fell and cracked me on the shin, taking a nice chunk of my skin off as it slid down and eventually hit the deck.

I walked into the kitchen where you were "helping" with dinner and got your Poppa's attention by saying "that's really gonna hurt." You took one look at my leg and burst into tears. I was not writhing in pain, I was not screaming I was simply standing there waiting for the medics to arrive with an amazing degree of self-restraint (I thought).

The minute you started to cry I forgot all about the leg. You knew something was wrong with your Momma and it upset you and all I wanted to do was assure you that everything was okay. I swooped you up, hobbled to the closest chair and just repeated over and over again that "Momma was okay." We also talked about bumps, something you know a thing or two about and you quickly picked up a new sign: bumping your palm against your forehead while saying "bum...bum" which is, of course, totally adorable. Things calmed down and you eagerly supervised the wound clean-up, watching as your Poppa poured peroxide and tea tree oil over the gashes. Convinced that the leg would heal just fine, you turned your attention to your dinner of peas and mango.

To feel the pain of others seems like such a grown up thing. While I'm sorry the sight of my bloodied leg upset you, it melts my heart that you were worried enough to be upset by the vision. In a strange way, it also makes it a little easier to mother you, a child who seems bent on keeping a permanent black and blue spot on her forehead. I feel your pain at least five or six times a day as you plop down too hard, get your head stuck under the table or fall off your little truck. I think my stomach might be permanently lodged in my throat; it's odd to think that you might know that feeling.

And empathy is perhaps one of the character traits I would most like to instill in you. Of course I don't want you to harbor the pain of others as your own, but recognizing and attempting to respond to the pain of others makes you fully, wholly human in the best way. And there's no better way to instill that value in you than to see it reflected in the lives of those you spend the most time around. Thanks for the reminder.

Did I mention that the power cord I bought for my computer was being shipped from Hong Kong? There are now an overwhelming number of pictures on my camera and stories to tell about visits with relatives and friends. We'll just have to spend an afternoon loading them once that trans-oceanic power cord arrives. You are now playing with my lipstick and making long distance phone calls (trans-oceanic, perhaps?) on my cell phone. I love you.