Two stolen moments

I come home from work, feeling unsettled, exhausted and nauseous.  I crawl up the stairs and flop on my bed, stealing a ten minute rest before I get dinner started.  I hear my 11 year old from the door of my room “Mommy, what’s wrong with you?”  “Just having a quick rest, my tummy doesn’t feel well.”  No response.  A few seconds later a little body curls up beside on my bed, and my boy puts his arm around me and rubs my back, just like I do for him when his tummy is sore.  I don’t say a word, but just enjoy our closeness.  Lucky Mom.

Another day, I pick up the phone to  hear some devastating news.  I hang up and immediately dissolve into tears, my head in my hands.  I hear my daughter put down her lunch, and quietly walk over to me, where she wraps me in a tight hug, without saying a word.  She gives me comfort, and I pull myself together borrowing from her strength.


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