Kerrington was a snuggler from the start and still is. The most frustrating part of my day is being the referee between the two when they are fighting over my lap. My solution is to plop them both in my lap, but if world war 1 is over my lap then world war 2 is over one of them touching the other while on my lap.
A night that passes without a 30 or 40 pound bedbug crawling in our bed is rare. The other night Haylee climbed into our bed and she snuggled just as close to me as she could possibly get and she pulled my arm over her and kissed my arm while hugging it close to her. A few minutes later she kissed my arm again. It was a beautiful "I love you." Even though I was 90% asleep, my heart smiled.
Last night Kerrington made a visit in the midnight hour. Again, I was half sleeping, but I was awake enough to realize that I had company. Brian had confiscated the pillow, and she couldn't find one, so I offered her my arm and she happily snuggled into it and me and whispered "Mama, I always love you." She was back to sleep in less than a minute. In the consciousness that I did have in that moment all I could think of was how fortunate I am that I have not one, but two little girls that are so loving and affectionate. I was filled with thankfulness as I hugged her tighter into me.
I know that there are parents out there that will never hear the words "I love you" from the children they love and cherish. To be very honest, I don't know much about Autism. I know that there is a huge range of symptoms and degrees of it, and children with mild cases can live somewhat normal lives. I also know that children with severe cases are incapable of connection and affection even with the parents they love.
My best friend's cousin has a daughter with severe Autism. I don't believe she will ever hear the words "I love you" from her little girl. What's beautiful is that they have a special way of connecting. It's in very subtle ways, but love is communicated. Although there are small ways that this love is felt, I'm certain the mother has a hole in her heart that just longs for those words to be whispered.
I can't even imagine the hardships that parents of children with special needs go through on a daily basis. when I'm having a rough day with my girls and then they crawl up in my lap and smother me with kisses the hard parts just fade away. What if I never had those moments? What if my little girl or girls couldn't even make eye contact with me?
In the challenges of parenthood it can be so easy to get caught up in the daily frustrations. It is so easy to lose sight of little things that really are not little at all. When you think about it, there really is no such thing as a "simple" I love you. When the words "I love you" are coming from the pure heart of a three or four year old it can move a mountain.
Dear Lord, please help me to embrace the joy that is ever present in the little moments.
This is what keeps me hanging on--Noah may have autism, but at least he can tell me he loves me. Does he always think to? No, but when he does, my heart swells. Do I always get eye contact? Nope. But when I do, without asking, my heart swells.
ReplyDeleteI'm crying. This is beautiful. Thank you.