It was one of those mornings. Just the simple act of stepping out of the front door and taking that first real breath of the day felt like nothing less than a triumph after an endless stream of failed negotiations, screams of defiance, tears of protest. But we made it and the reward was sweet. The air at one of our favorite parks, often overtaken by strong gusts of bay winds, was unusually warm and peaceful. I exhaled.
Within no time g had taken ownership of the playground and I set about to putting a snack together. And just then the loud shriek of an unannounced train barreling along the tracks just feet from the perimeter of the play area gave us both a good startle. I jumped and g ducked under a swing. That scared me, he said. Me too. g reached out for me and I swooped him up. I’m not afraid when I’m with you, mamma. He nestled in as close as he could and then looked up at the tracks, seemingly willing the biggest baddest freight train in the world to pass at that moment. And for a second, I felt like I was 10 feet tall.
Sometimes it can be overwhelming to acknowledge that this power, this ability to single-handedly chase away the demons and tame the tempests, is attached to an awesome responsibility. Still I am dearly thankful for these moments. They might even trump the gratification of any promotion or raise, nurture the psyche in a way that nothing else can.
Today I am grateful to be needed.