Scenery

I've never considered myself "good" with kids. I love them. I think they're the neatest things ever. (Well, they're not "things" but you know...) I mean, I've babysat and I have lots of beautiful kids in my life. And I'm always open to welcoming more of them in. Friends kids, nieces, nephews. I do love children. They're great. And they know how to bounce back in a way that adults could only hope to.

But... when they're hurting, you hurt. Especially when you have no way to take away their hurt. When they yell out in their suffering, a cut goes right across your heart. In a way that nothing else could. The scars can wear you down and make you nearly immobile. But, you can't be immobile because kids need you. Even if they recover better and more quickly than adults. Especially from physical pain.

However, last night as I watched my nieces run around the yard with biff and her fiance, I was struck. At the sheer beauty of what's important and what's not. For the people who care as opposed to the people who don't care. Or don't want to stretch themselves out in the name of caring. Sometimes they just don't know what to do. Or sometimes they can't get past themselves long enough to see what's really needed or what's really going on. But, as these girls ran around the yard, playing a variation of dodgeball, it all became abundantly clear. Those hours we're spending in the hospital, the hours spent in the yard, the time with one another is so precious and so little of our actual time. We have to embrace it. It's love in action. It's powerful and it's strong. And sometimes it means tears and anguish. Sometimes it's not exactly all you think it should be. But, it's human and it's frail. And needs to be nourished at every possible moment. Everything else is just scenery.