Photo by Colin A. Danville
Dear Children,
You need to know that tears are as much a part of this life as laughter. For the most part, your days are made up of giggles and squeals, of running and jumping, of exploring and questioning. You spend your time investigating curious ideas and constructing impromptu experiments to test out those ideas. Along the way you stumble into your discoveries and are led to ask even more questions about yourself, your family, your life, the world, and everything in it.
You know sadness too. You know the sting of busting your head on the floor when you’re moving too fast, or having a toy unjustly yanked from your hands, or being sent to the corner for the very mean thing you said to your brother or sister. You know the disappointment that comes from not getting your way, or from having to wait until the elusive next time to get the thing you really, really want.
But mostly, you associate crying with a phenomenon of your frustrating moments as children. Not often do you have to witness your mother’s unhappiness, but it can happen. It does happen time to time. And you need to know that this is also a normal part of life. Sometimes your mother will have tears falling down her face, and you won’t know why, and you won’t be able to make them stop with a gentle kiss on the cheek. You won’t be able to pick me up and rock me side to side as I do for you. You won’t be able to pull out a breast and soothe my woes as you nurse me to sleep. You won’t be able to strap me on your back and carry me around until I feel better. All these ways are how you’ve learned to tend to tears, and it may come as a shock to you that none of these methods will help you if you see your mother crying.
Unlike your tears, I won’t be able to explain all of mine to you. In those moments, it’s generally very complicated. Sometimes it will be because someone else said something harsh or cruel to mommy and my feelings are hurt. Sometimes it will be about some drama in our family that’s too much for munchkin ears and brains to comprehend. Sometimes it will be because my heart is broken and it will take me a really long time to mend it and recover my joy.
You, sweet as you are, will naturally want to help me feel better. And you may feel powerless at the realization that there is no instant remedy for mommy’s pain. One day, a long, long time from now when you are adults, you will understand what I mean by “some things take time.” Right now, you live with such raw devotion to the present moment, you can’t fully fathom this time that it takes for grown-ups to sometimes feel better. Still, in your own way, you will try to soothe me. And I will be grateful, even as I know I won’t be able to pretend everything is okay so that you feel good about your efforts to make mommy feel better.
It’s important that I teach you how to honor all of your emotions. Some emotions are more difficult to experience, but they are as much a part of the fabric of humanity as all the lovely, feel-good feelings. I am responsible for showing you how to navigate your emotional landscape as authentically as you can. In showing you my tears, I am helping you understand that grief, loss, heartache, and despair are natural parts of the human experience. Little as you are, you too are human. And one day, you will have to grow through your own awakenings into the depths and possibilities of your emotions. Sometimes I won’t be there to pat your back or hold you in my lap while you feel the full weight of your sorrows. Sometimes your tears will overwhelm you, and the sobbing will move violently through your body, and you will have to let your storm run its course. You will have to give yourself the time and space to find your own way back to peace.
But you are a ways off from such adult labors. For now, you will experience most of your tough moments within reach of your mother’s loving support. You will be encouraged to use your words as they come to you, and as you mature, to be thorough in sorting and identifying what is really bothering you. This is a critical life skill, and as your mother, I am here to model emotional intelligence and emotional literacy for you. These are things we practice for a lifetime. As you grow, you will come to find your own truths, your own rhythms within this dance. In this way you will learn to have empathy for others, as you too will know intimately what it feels like to sometimes have to navigate the sad, lonely, devastating parts of life too.
Tears are not something to be afraid of, is what I’m really saying. Tears bring us clarity, like how the rain washes out the old and makes room for the new to shine and bloom. Sometimes we have to cry so that we can finally admit our honest needs to ourselves. Sometimes we have to shed our tears so that we can stop resisting and censoring the thing pressing so passionately on our hearts. Sometimes we have to release our hidden dam of salty waters so that we might access the breadth of our own brilliant visions, so that we might feel the fullness of the moments we are creating with this one life we each have to live.
So my lovelies, when you do see me crying sometimes, know that I am just expressing one of many emotions on the spectrum of feelings. One of the most essential strengths to cultivate in this life is the ability to give yourself permission to feel. When you see mommy crying, that’s what I’m doing. I’m giving myself a moment to be real with the undersides of joy. I’m taking the liberty to be whole and human, and teaching you to do the same.
With all my love,
Mommy