The broken heart sings

My heart has felt a little more broken this week.


There have been some real lows.


A little boy and a complete, all encompassing meltdown on a safari bus at the open range zoo. Piercing screams, rigid, writhing limbs, tears and snot and people staring, or trying not to. That one needs a post all of its own. But I am not ready for that yet. It hurts.
A little boy, our little boy, treading an anxious path through the week with no apparent reason. Dark circles under his eyes like he has been awake pondering the world all night. Fingernails bitten and picked to almost nothing. A waning appetite. An urgent need to be the one, to open and close doors, to push “start” on the microwave and washing machine, to turn lights on and off.
A mum, me, struggling with all of this. Overwhelmed, exhausted and anxious about trying to help, to find an answer. A spilt drink, a lost shoe, a messy bathroom make it all seem too much. Trying to find a path through it all that makes some kind of sense, that’s manageable for all of us. The kinder run is hard this week. He can do so many amazing things, I know that. But this week, what hits me squarely in the jaw, are the things our beautiful boy struggles with, the things that set him apart. I hide my eyes behind sunglasses at kinder pick up time, the happy parent and child chatter seems so loud. I feel like an outsider. At least today.
And tonight, when I am feeling that little jagged piece in my heart so keenly, something shifts.
Our little boy asks “Do you love me Mummy?”. It’s a question he has never asked directly like this. We say “I love you” often, and he does too. But never before has this question come.
It sounds like music. My broken heart sings a little. And I answer him, show him, “I love you this much”, with arms flung open wide. Yes there it is, my broken heart is singing.


Image via We Heart It