August 20, 2010


There are a lot of parents out there who forget what it really means to "raise" a child. Sometimes I think they can't see their kids anymore, because they see them all the time. I don't get to see mine at all, so I am painfully aware of what I am missing. I honor their memory as best I can. I am getting braver, about sharing their stories, about expressing my grief and my longing for them both.

Sometimes, at work, it's all I can do not to grab some other person's child after an unwarranted scolding and hug them to me fiercely. I want to whisper -- because I know from experience that it's the whispers you hear the longest and best, when what you're used to is shouts -- I want to whisper in their little ears, for the brief moment I would have them close: You are so special! You are amazing and wonderful and sweet and good. And I see you. I see you, my dear.

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