As Close As Breath

There’s something I’ve begun to notice, little sweetheart. I’m very affected by the sound of someone crying.

All this time I’ve known that if I even breath a little hard hard or too deeply that I myself can fall into weeping because the grief is so close to the surface, always. I don’t desire its absence - far from it - “never be ashamed to cry for that girl”, I’ve been known to say. I wrote that an index card and it hangs here over my desk. My grief is part of me and connected to you. I don’t need to do anything to bring it forward but I know especially that it can be triggered by breath.

The newer thing I’ve begun to discover, little sweetheart, is that when I hear others cry - a child or even an adult in some difficulty or anguish - it engages my own emotions so viscerally, I often begin to cry myself. In a way, that is, like so many other things, a testament to you. To the great love and empathy that is such a characteristic of your beautiful spirit.

You continue to mould me, little sweetheart. Reaching out to me from the place I cannot yet see to make me a better, finer person and to teach me all I need to know for the journey. Even through my tears, how grateful I am that you found me.