When your baby child laughs, as a mom your heart tumbles out of rhythm; there's no other sound like it in the world. Before you can catch a breath it brings tears to your eyes.
When your young child struggles, as a mom you try to give them space to let them learn from their mistakes, band-aid their knees when they fall and offer your lap of support if they need someplace safe to abide from their fears. Before you know it, they're off and running to claim the world as their stage and you as their audience.
When your teenage child hurts, as a mom you listen with sympathy, threaten to bring the perpetrator's sniveling little world crashing down around their ears, jump to your child's defense whenever necessary and oft times when it isn't, and reassure your suffering adolescent that tomorrow will come and they have it in their power to make it a better day.
When your grown-up child cries . . . as a mom your heart tumbles out of rhythm; there's no other sound like it in the universe. Before you can catch a breath it brings tears to your eyes.
Some tears can feel free to stop anytime. As a mom I wish they would.
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