I rock, and rock, and rock, holding you still because that’s what you need. Rest, sweet rest, that’s what you need the most. And as I pat your bottom and make hushing sounds with my lips, your heavy eyelids flutter one last time before they close for a much anticipated nap. A fat, salty tear slips from the corner of your eye, and it rests there in a pool, reminding me of your cries, even though you are silent now.
When I see the evidence of your emotional uprising, laying there like a clue, my heart hurts a little, as only a mommy heart can do. In that moment I want nothing more than to brush away your tear, with a gentle kiss of my lips I could take it completely away, like it was never there at all.
And as I taste the saltiness of your tears, and I gaze on your frailty, I am determined to always and forever kiss your pain away, as long as I am breathing and able. I think in that moment, with the full weight of you in my arms, that this purpose must be why I am here at all. To protect you, and to take your hurts as my own.
When you are sick, and fever seeps all the good-feeling from your tiny form, I fall ill as well. I suffer under the worry like a sickness in itself, and I try to take it away from you, as if the caress of my tender hand will sufficiently steal your illness. I hold you close, the heat burning us both, and I pray.
When you stumble, and when you fall; I fall also. And though my body may remain upright, know that my every fiber feels the vibrations as you hit the cruel, hard ground. I taste the dirt, and I bleed too, even if a cut you cannot see. I bleed inside, where my mommy heart resides, where I desire to take in every single accident that befalls you. I would take them all in an instant, and put them on myself, if only I could, I would. You see?
When something or someone disappoints you, my heart breaks also, and in these moments I gain the strength of ten men, and I search desperately for the fallen steel that I could lift from your crushed spirit, but some tears are not as easily kissed away. Although I will try. Forever and always.
When you grow older, and tears still flow, I will be there, ready to kiss your pain away. Even if you are far away, and too big for my lap, I will always stand ready, ready to take away the hurt your heart feels, as much as I am able. That will never change.
But I fear that I will fail you,
that some falls will be too great for me to bear,
and that even as I try,
your pain will still be there.
And though I kiss your tears, they may still steadily flow,
and to the Father’s hands I will have to let that go.
For I know where I fall short He is faithful to intercede,
and this knowledge gives me hope, and peace for the unforeseen.