The Child Teacher

Each and everyday, we are changing, growing, learning, while attempting to navigate this crazy world. As parent we are hell bent on making sure that our children have all they need to be successful while teaching them the core values of a decent human being. It is our job and mission! For those of you who are like me… a control freak… it is difficult to let go and allow the child to make the mistakes, especially when you are able to prevent it. As I continue to push forward into to unknown territory, I am realizing that by taking control all the time, I am preventing my son’s growth and development when it comes to certain things. My issues with control could hinder his future understand of things if I try to protect him all the time. It was quite an epiphany! I am doing the same to his grieving process, and in turn my own.

I am flabbergasted at my son’s resilience. I know I have spoken about this before, but there have been so many changes. He has, some how, been able to keep it together for the most part. Yeah, yeah, yeah… I know that he is really too young to understand the concept of death, but he does notice and feel the absence. In dealing with my own grief, I compartmentalized the hurt and tried to just forget about it. I didn’t have time to deal with the emotions and hurt. Out of sight of mind right? Well, obviously, my son does not have the capacity to do this, and I am so grateful. In the times that I should be teaching him skills, I do believe that the teacher has become the student. Henry is expressive and opinionated, but that does not come as a shock given his parents! However, he is also very articulate and will be very direct with his feeling about wishing to see his daddy. He talks about it with such passion some days. It makes me smile and “ugly cry” at the same time. Each time this happens, which most recently has become a daily occurrence, it brings my own grief up to the surface. I have always tried to put on a strong face and smile to bring comfort to my son, but deep down my intuition is screaming to me, “Let it go!”

I cried for the first time in front of him the other day, and the response was mind blowing. Henry didn’t say a single word, but walked over rubbed my arm and then gave me a hug. After a few moments, he let go and said, “Mommy, I love you so much. You really are the best mommy around!” He didn’t ask why I was sad or crying, because something tells me he already knew. There are so many things that, I feel, we don’t give kids credit for. Their innocence and intuition is so strong, that they are able to provide comfort in ways that no one else can. Their truths are brutal, but necessary at times… well at least in our case. Henry has experienced something that I believe has truly aged him. He was an old soul to begin with, but he has grown in way that I could have never hoped to teach him. If anything, he has provided me with the strength the press on each and every day. He has reminded me that I am doing my best, and he notices. He forces me to work through my fears, insecurities, and emotions (when it comes to Adam). The crazy thing he doesn’t even realize he is doing this.

As we grow into adults, our views become skewed, either by the things we experienced or the things that we see going on. If not controlled it can make us bitter and worried about the future. Our children are our daily reminder to live in the now, celebrate the little things, and express our feelings and emotions. I know my son is the light that leads me through the darkness. His love and excitement rub off on me each and everyday. Even when it feel like the weight of the world rests on my shoulders, his giggle, his hugs, and everything he does ( with the exception of the crazy meltdowns! HA) cause me to take a deep breath and smile. The curiosity and emotional struggle he has regarding his daddy, is the catalyst to my healing. We can heal together! So rather that continue to avoid the conversation, or make it a quick as possible, we have begun to speak in length. Rather than running from the situation, we are facing it head on together.

K. Marin