Hands and Knees
I don’t remember why I was kneeling and crying. Last week was kind of a doozy for such things.
I can’t recall what exactly pushed me to the brink, and I don’t know how I got to my knees or why I didn’t get up, except that it must have seemed fitting to stay where I was, on my hands and knees on the bathroom floor, for the crying I needed to do. 
I heard Tucker coming before he arrived, since he and his cast go nowhere silently. If he’s not on his scooter or in his wheelchair, he’s crawling on his hands and knees. He came alongside me, and there we were, shoulder to shoulder in our matching positions. He put his hand on my back, he leaned his head against my shoulder.
And he whispered to me, “I’d know that cry anywhere.”
He didn’t ask me what was wrong. He didn’t ask me to stop crying. He didn’t try to cheer me up. He just joined me on the floor.
That’s an empathy you can’t teach.
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Kim A. says:
Beautiful! And what a gift to have someone to be there with you, and not tell you to “stop crying, mom” or “it’s OK.”
I stood at my father’s grave today and cried simply because it was the first I had seen the death date engraved on his tombstone. In hindsight, I wished I had stayed longer because I was the one telling myself, “stop crying” and “it’s OK”….why do we try to rush these things?!?
Amber says:
Oh sweet boy! What a treasure!!
Anon says:
Now there’s two of us crying.
Diana says:
He learned empathy from you!
Sue Muckley says:
How precious is he!!!
Elisabeth says:
So incredibly precious.