Love and Listen

I remember the time when the sun still shone and warmed my face. When in innocence, the colors of this world were still vibrant and clear. It was in those times that my children were at the age where a kind word could heal offense and an embrace could repair all wounds. I make it sound so lovely but in truth, it was very hard for me. Going through a divorce with an absentee mother was at the time life-ending. But my daughters made it interesting, to say the least, and gave me a reason to hold it all together when everything was trying to come apart. But as I have said before, I see that time now as the best of my life.

Then they grew up... One day I saw in my youngest's eyes a sorrow that only a parent who is looking can see. I remember trying to get her to talk to me, unsuccessfully I might add until finally, I gave my solemn word as a father that I would not give any advice. I would only listen to what troubled her mind.

I am not saying this was a mistake because for her it was exactly what she needed. For me on the other hand, it shook me to my foundations as I listened with only words of support, which were limited to many 'I'm sorries' and 'I know it is hards'. Yes, I just used the word 'hards' which I am pretty sure that up until this moment I have never used before because it is not actually the plural of hard, which raises the question in my mind, is there a plural of hard? But I digress. The moment I agreed to only listen the flood gates opened and she gushed with raw emotion the trials and tribulations of being her, a teenager in the world today. I am not going to lie, I was upset by many of the things she said because they were said about someone I cared deeply for; her.

But I listened...

She spoke of her self image in such a way that if another were to talk about any of my children in that manner I might have to revisit my stance on non-violence and most likely would have needed bail money.

But I listened...

She cried, and so did I. The immense force of not being able to remind her that she is beautiful and smart, and amazing to me stressing my fortitude to just listen. At several points, I was sure I could not keep in my words but I did...

...and still, I listened...

After the longest six hours I have ever experienced, her fifteen minutes of heartfelt sorrow and worries grew to an end and as the words turned to a sob, I reached over and hugged her. Well, it was a part hug and part to shield her from the world as best I could at that moment. In that hug, the sobbing turned to sniffles, for both of us.

I would like to say that once it was all over I held true to my promise of only listening but I caved. I said to her "I know I promised that I would not give any advice and only listen, but I needed to say something" That something poured out of me with a gentle tone that even surprised me as I told her how I felt about her, how I saw her and the woman I knew she would grow to become.

It seems hard when they are still young and innocent. One can find themselves caught up in the work of raising them. The messes they make that you have to clean. The meals to prepared. The late-night feedings and soiled diapers may seem hard. The endless arguments with siblings and the boo-boo's you have to mend with a kiss may try your patience. But trust me on this, no amount of sleep lost, no amount of frustration felt, no amount of juggling between family and career can compare with the day when you can no longer kiss it and make it better.

It seems hard and trying when you are in the middle of it. But the day is coming when all you can do is listen to their pain and in that day you will truly look back and long for the days when they listened to you.