I talk a good game. I talk about how my children and I stick together, explore and learn and grow together. There is a lot of love in our family. We also make space for disagreements and yelling and tears and hurts. And then we move toward each other again to heal the wounds. We have plenty of wounds here as we grieve our largest loss. (I could write for years about the many ways I miss my partner, the daddy of my young babies, and perhaps I will share these details for years.)
My children know they are safe to disagree and argue with me. My older daughter is sensitive and introspective while my son is clearly an open book of emotions. As I asked him for the fifth time to please do one of his chores a few days ago, he said, "I need to talk with Papa." Well, goodness, I cannot argue with that. So he sat in front of his dad's photograph in our prayer room for a very long time. Our son placed his daddy's ashes in front of the photograph. And then he began to sing. A good long time later I found him playing board games on the floor near the photograph and urn. He needed his daddy time when I thought it was so important for him to accomplish a weekly list of tasks.
In so many ways my children refocus me on what is more important than a clean floor and brushed teeth. Whole hearts and connections are more valuable. The floors and teeth always need cleaning.
I am so grateful to know we are just right in our imperfections, in the mistakes that teach us how to live better with one another. I am thankful for learning lessons along the way and holding each other close as we do. I am so very grateful for the privilege and responsibility of getting to guide and protect these beautiful souls.
My children know they are safe to disagree and argue with me. My older daughter is sensitive and introspective while my son is clearly an open book of emotions. As I asked him for the fifth time to please do one of his chores a few days ago, he said, "I need to talk with Papa." Well, goodness, I cannot argue with that. So he sat in front of his dad's photograph in our prayer room for a very long time. Our son placed his daddy's ashes in front of the photograph. And then he began to sing. A good long time later I found him playing board games on the floor near the photograph and urn. He needed his daddy time when I thought it was so important for him to accomplish a weekly list of tasks.
In so many ways my children refocus me on what is more important than a clean floor and brushed teeth. Whole hearts and connections are more valuable. The floors and teeth always need cleaning.
I am so grateful to know we are just right in our imperfections, in the mistakes that teach us how to live better with one another. I am thankful for learning lessons along the way and holding each other close as we do. I am so very grateful for the privilege and responsibility of getting to guide and protect these beautiful souls.
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