Comfort and joy: a letter to my daughter
NS August 24th, 2009
Dear TNC,
Last night you woke up crying, saying your throat hurt. Daddy and I tried to comfort you, get you to take medicine, drink some water…but still the tears rolled down your soft cheeks and the sobs wracked your small body. When you are like this we feel so helpless to make it all better and would do anything in the world to relieve your pain, or fear. All we could do was hold you and let you know we were there, for as long as you needed us. Daddy went downstairs to take care of some things and I laid down in bed with you. I began stroking your hair and singing you our special ‘Night Night Song’, which I made up when you were a baby. It goes:
Let’s lie down and rest our heads
Let’s lie down, it’s time for bed
Let’s lie down and count some sheep
It’s off to dreamland, off to sleep
You drifted off to sleep and so I gently extricated myself from your tear-sodden embrace, leaving you to get some much-needed rest. A short time later you woke again and Daddy went in to be with you, undoubtedly stroking your face and hair and holding you in his arms as well.
You are so loved.
Daddy slept in your bed with you all night, his feet hanging over the edge of your small person’s bed and tucked precariously on the edge of the narrow mattress. Never once has he complained when you have needed him to do this. Never has he hesitated to give you the comfort you need to feel safe and secure. Neither of us have. When we say we would do anything for you, we truly mean it. Anything.
One of the biggest joys of being your mother is not only getting to take care of you and nurture you when you need it, but watching you learn how to do the same. Because of your late-night waking last night, and the constant wakings of your brother for unrelated reasons, I am feeling rather tired this morning. After an initial burst of energy and coffee, I began to fade about a half hour ago. I told you I was very sleepy and you immediately told me to lay on the sofa. You ran over and cleared all the toys off and fluffed up the pillows, arranging them just so for me. I lay down and you curled up with me, your face centimetres from mine as I half-closed my eyes and slowed my breathing. Then you began to stroke my face and hair and whispered, “It’s okay, Mummy. I’m here” over and over. I smiled and looked into your eyes. You instructed me to close them again and I obliged. You then began to sing in your sweet, 3-year-old voice:
Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are…
You sang it twice, like I always do for you with the Night Night Song, and then kissed me on the cheek and whispered “Good night, I love you.”
I love you too, my darling.
