Heart Attack.

I had a moment tonight that can only be described in medical terms. It was like a heart attack - and I stopped breathing. Then that same heart that just had a horrible attack dropped and I froze. It's because I had a terrible realization.

Some day, hopefully in the really far off future (if ever!), someone or something is going to tell or try to convince this perfectly cuddly, happy, stunningly beautiful girl -

... or maybe her equally spectacular elder counterpart -

that she is not beautiful, stunning, smart, spectacular, talented, or a child of God. And for a second tears sprang to my eyes at the thought that she would believe them.

Why did I think of this as I spooned more mexican salad mac into a mouth filled with 11 tiny teeth? I don't even know where it came from. But I suddenly had an overwhelming desire to clutch my children to my bosom and rock them until they were 30. They'd probably be OK by then, right? Self-assured enough, strong enough, certain enough.

Just in case there's a chance that one of them might some day believe a misled moronic boy or catty high school girl, a magazine or television ad, or any other number of outlets where we're spoon fed lies, I'd better tell them every day. That they are beautiful. They are bright. They have their own special talents. They do and will do things no one else can. Their laughs are akin to heavenly harps. And in them, there is divinity and love and promise and hope and hte capacity for all things good. And while I'm at it, I could probably tell myself, too. I could always use an extra dose of such things.


The Browns said...

Thanks, I needed this post!

Heather said...

Poignantly observed, beautifully written.