My step-son woke me up at 3o’ clock this morning. He had a really bad dream. He said everybody’s head kept popping off.
But in the midst of his little tears and trembling, I found myself actually thanking my lucky stars that he had that bad dream. Because he came to ME, and I got to dry his little tears. Then he crawled in my bed and cuddled up next to me and I got to hold him and keep him safe until the alarm clock woke us up at 7. That may have been a bit selfish, but we are all the better for it.
He’s such a sweet little kid, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He constantly worries about his Mom and her actions. He worries about her not showing up to see him. He questions why his Mom doesn’t love him. Why doesn’t Mommy call him, why won’t Mommy go to school and read with him. And while I would love to make excuses for her to protect his little fragile heart, all I am allowed to say is “I don’t know, honey, but it hurts me too.”
I could never understand how a MOTHER could allow her son to wonder about her intentions for an instant, even that is too long for an innocent boy.