Hold Loosely

I know what it feels like--the kind of love so deep it aches. Tonight as I rode in the ambulance with my dear Danica screaming in pain I felt the utter helplessness a mother goes through over and over in her children's lives when she cannot make it better. I have been there with Delaney; during several febrile seizures brought on by high fever, when she split her head open at Montessori and when she knocked her front teeth and mouth at White Flint. Outside of Danica's scary birth and stay in the NICU this is my first health drama with her. I know to stay calm and say it will be alright. I know to sing soft songs while I hold them and tell them how much I love them. I know to pray hard. I know to hold them loosely. They are not mine, just a gift for this moment.

I wasn't prepared for how I would feel taking Danica back into a hospital. I had a severe physical reaction to the ER. I had to keep myself from throwing up. I couldn't keep the tears from streaming down my face. I kept saying over and over to the nurse, "She has NEVER cried like this. Something is wrong." Delaney was there with me. She was the reason we were here. After being told over and over again not to pick up her sister she had disobeyed and somehow twisted her arm while she lifted her. I was trying to balance the justified anger at her causing this situation and even more love that hurts--wanting her to really learn how much pain and sorrow can come from ignoring clear directives.

My sweet Danica child is home sleeping now. She will heal. Her arm is sprained but not broken. I will not sleep tonight. I will listen for any whimper or cry and go to her. I am so tired. My arms and back hurt so badly from holding Danica for hours at the hospital, but I will eventually try to rest on the floor in her room.

As we waited for Danica to have her arm x-rayed tonight I told Dan that I really understood what my parents did for us in the last year. All those trips back and forth on the turnpike to be with me. All the sacrifices they made to care for Delaney and love her while I could not. All the times my mom sat with me in the hospital and just held my hand. All the love and care they had for my husband, now their son. There was no Suze Orman shouting in their ear to look out for their retirement more than care for our family financially. There was no judgment about the very hard decisions we had to make during that time. They showed they would go to the ends of the earth for me, for us. No doubt it hurt like it never had before to see the anguish I was in physically and emotionally and mentally. But they stayed and loved with the deep aching kind of love only parents have for their children.

Here in the quiet of the night I am thinking of the love reflected from my own parents to my heart and life and reflected again to my daughters from Dan and I, all mirror images of a love we learned from our Abba Father who sent His own Son to die so we might live. I am thinking of how we grieve our Father when we ignore His clear directives and cause pain and sadness in our lives. I am thinking of how His grace shines through even our sin. Tonight I realize once again how fragile this precious life is. I will not take it for granted. I will take the love that hurts so badly sometimes it seems unbearable and say "thank you" for the gift of feeling this love at all. Every minute I hold these children of God is a treasure. May I never forget they are His and not mine.