Crocodile Tears
Today at gymnastics, James landed funny and twisted his ankle. His coach brought him an ice pack - and I watched as he tried to hold back the tears. His little lips were quivering, and he was trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, but he looked up and caught my eye. He couldn't hold it any longer - a tear or two ran down his face. But, then he looked away, trying his mightiest to be brave.
Looking at his little face, I was flooded with that feeling, trying to hold back my own tears, trying to be brave, but feeling so sad inside. I felt so much compassion - not just for his little ankle (which will be just fine) - but that he is old enough to even think about holding it in. What a tragic circumstance. When babies are distraught - there is no public awareness. They could care less about bawling, throwing tantrums, shouting out in pain. But as adults, we care...or perhaps we want to avoid questions. Questions like, "Are you alright?" Its kind of a silly question - obviously, if someone has crossed the threshold from trying-to-be-brave and is actually welling up there is something wrong. I have made a solemn promise to myself - that I will avoid this question. That I will instead sympathetically smile, give someone that knowing touch, just change the subject and not bring it up unless they want to, or simply say, "I'm sorry." These are the things that help the sad two year old (and I guess me).
I will now start mourning for James - I hate the idea that he has to become so publicly aware - isn't he too young?! I wish we could all be raw and real - but sometimes that doesn't help heal the hurt either. Sometimes just making it through until we are in a safe place to release our burdens - in James' case the car ride home - is the best way. Thank goodness for safe places.
7 comments:
I just learned that Crocodile Tears actually means insincere sorrow - but there was nothing insincere about this moment. Oh, and I strongly believe that no one should hold in their tears forever.
you're so right, angie. i've never thought about when we learn to pretend we're okay, even if we're not. but sometimes that's the only way to get through the day. or gymnastics class. i'm always glad when my kids feel like they can let it all go when they're around me. it's nice to be that safe place.
very sweet post, thanks!
James was so Brave! He learned that from his mom ;-) your message today is the type of information I miss every day! This was a great post. Hope to hear from you soon.
It might help to note that James had noticed the warning on the tumbling mats, which read, "Danger: May cause serious injury or even death!" Now that was real courage trying to hold that fear in. I'm sure glad everything that could cause injury is not posted or we would walk down the street having our immediate demise published inch by inch. Oh well, even without the signs I guess it still exsists. Well, have a GREAT day.
Catherine (Little Merry Sunshine)
since when did mom become "little merry sunshine" and i love james and anyone who is willing to cry just because they need to.
I still can't comment "crocodile tears" I love this blog too much-
My safe place- the bathroom. I was in there the other day having a good cry when Carly walked in(I'd forgotten to lock the door.)At first she was confused but then she put her little arms around my neck and said, "Don't cry mommy, or I'll cry too." And she did. Sometimes we all need someone to cry with. Thank you.
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