Well, Mom, now I understand.
-and here's a note to my little ones, who will someday understand for themselves-
Zion, I hurt your great big heart today. I heard it in your naturally raspy voice. I saw it in your tiny, handsome face.
You are going on four years old, and you are loud, and you are whiny, and you are perfectly normal in every way. A child. I am going on 31 years old, and I am exhausted.
Absolutely exhausted.
My beautiful, amazing, treasured children, if you are reading this years from now, hear me say this. It was always my fault, not yours. I was the adult, and you were the children. I am sorry I could not be perfect for you. I would have given everything I had to be a perfect mother for you. My only comfort is knowing that your Father in Heaven is perfect.
Zion, I just got through cuddling with you in your bed, underneath Bright's bed, underneath the painting of Ruth and Boaz that Sue Sue made for you boys as a parting gift when we moved to East Asia in 2008. It was late when I sneaked into your room. Daddy was not yet home from a weekend men's retreat in the nearby mountains. I had been crying for the better part of the day, because I wasn't invited to something again, and because I'm so far away from my mom and dad, and because I hurt your great big heart. Cuddled up next to you as you slept, I stroked your tiny forearm, and told you I was sorry. You murmured, "I fo-give you" and I could smell your breath, and feel the warmth of your cheek and the set of your itty bitty jaw. Someday, my son, you will be a wiry, happy man, and you will, L0RD willing, love your incredibly flawed mama.
Bright, Zion, Brave, and Jubilee, I will always love you more than it appears, no matter how hard I try to show it. And for every tear I will ever cause your eyes to shed, I am truly sorry.
With All My Love Forever,
Mom
