Thursday, 24 January 2013

Mr. Moon

There are moments that I'm so humbled to witness and where I feel in awe of the incredible complexity of my children.  The moment I experienced today blows my mind so much that I struggle to put into words what I saw in the window to the soul of my littlest Astrin.

All started out very harmless and routine.  I was helping Astrin on to the potty.  I usually sing to her while she sits, and for whatever reason, I sang Mr. Moon this time.  Here's how it goes:

     Mr. Moon, Mr. Moon
     You're out to soon
     The sun is still in the sky
     Go back to bed 
     And cover up your head
     Until the day goes by

As I finished the song, she frowned.  Then she asked me to sing it again.  This time, she frowned and her lower lip pushed out into a little bit of a pout.  But again, she asked for an encore.  Her eyes looked troubled.  After the fourth song, she couldn't contain it any more.  She burst into tears.  I held my little one as she sobbed into my shoulder.  "No go bye," she wailed.  Now I understood.  She thought I was singing of a farewell, which very well could be tearful. 

"Oh, baby," I crooned as I wiped those very real, sad tears away and rubbed her back.  "It's not good-bye.  It's just come back a little later.  Rest for a little longer.  Get a little bit more sleep until night time."

Our conversation took a turn as she became very concerned about the whereabouts of her cousins and aunt.  Where were they? she demanded to know.  While I told her factually where they were, in retrospect, perhaps telling her they were safe and we would see them again soon would have been more helpful to her.  I don't know.  

Such strong emotions for such a little one who often happily relishes the role of being the baby of the family and all the silly, clownish stunts being the baby entails.  Did I catch a glimpse of empathy for a moon being cast out?  Or sincere sadness for the farewell of a friend?  Or relating farewells in a song to the absence of family that she adores?  Again, I don't know.  I do know that I am thankful for the reminder of the fragile souls, hearts and minds that I live, learn, and grow with every day, and that they need and deserve every ounce of love and support that I can give them.

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