Healing

I've been sick with some kind of stomach bug for 5 days.  Right now I obviously am feeling better or I wouldn't be writing, but it doesn't seem to last long( the feeling better that is).  I'm learning something through this though.  Or relearning.

My kids, they heal me.  When Winston takes my face in his hands and touches my cheeks, my eyes, my chin, my head...

Then he puts his head against mine and says, "Are you feeling better now Mommy?"  Of course I am.  How can I not.  Yesterday when I started to cry from the pain he asked me about my "owie".  This is the scar that used to be an actual owie that he remembers from when his brother was born.  

"Do you have an owie, Mommy?"  No honey, I have a scar my owie is all better now.  But I used to have an owie where you and your brother came out of my tummy.  "When you were born!  Like baby Jesus!  Remember?  And the angel's name is Mary!!!" 

He remembers all of everything I did to make Christmas mean something so much more than presents.  Even though we haven't found a church, his little spirit reminds me everyday that God is with us and in him and his brother.  

He heals me, and reminds me to listen.  Reminds he that it's ok to all lay in the bed with your heads close together and be still.  It's ok for Wednesday to nurse and nurse and nurse while we're laying down together.  

Seeing Wednesday's little face peeking over me while he nurses is one image I don't ever want to forget.  He reminds me that my body is still strong enough for my kids even when it's not strong enough for me.

When I was little my favorite part of being sick, if there is such a thing, was just to spend time with my Dad without a schedule.  To just have quiet time together.  I can rework that memory backwards, or something like that, and give my kids a more sincere form of myself while my body is healing.