Heart Bruises

(image from www.empowermentnetwork.com)

In the years that I've been a mother, I've gotten plenty of practice at helping hurt kids feel better.  I've kissed dozens of boo-boos, applied countless bandages, and dried plenty of tears.  After a short while, the child stops crying and realizes he’s going to be just fine.  The injury, once so scary and painful, is soon forgotten and life returns to normal.

Hurts of the romantic kind are not so easy to heal.  As my boys grow older, I find that such hurts become increasingly inevitable.  No one can wander unscathed within the prickly but enticing land of love.  We can’t help getting stuck by a thorn or two, and when we do, it’s always painful and unexpected.

When it comes to heartache, I’m never quite sure what to do or say to my kids.  I mean, I know to be there for them if they want to talk, and to help them understand that one day, they really will feel OK again.  I know to remind them that they are still worthy people even if someone else says  they aren’t. 

I know to make sure that they eat a little something even if the sadness makes food seem uninteresting.  But beyond that, what?  None of this feels like enough when your child is hurting.  Even though I know that I can’t take the pain away and make it all better, all of my mama instincts drive me to at least try.

Then there’s the matter of the ex-girlfriend.  Whether she breaks up with him, or the other way around, I’m not quite sure of what to do next.  If their relationship has been a long one, and we’ve welcomed this girl into our family, I tend to feel as if I’ve been broken up with, too.  Am I expected to just abruptly halt any contact with her?  Turn off my feelings of affection?  If so, shouldn’t I say something to her before I do?  There’s no action that feels comfortable.  This is the kind of stuff that someone should include in those “What to Expect” parenting books.  

To make things even more difficult, sometimes I don’t agree with my kids’ choices.  Recently, my middle son dated a lovely girl we had both known since he was in kindergarten.  They went through elementary school together, and I knew her and her family well.  When he cavalierly announced to me that he’d broken up with her, I felt terrible.  I wanted to call her up, tell her all men are pond scum, and share a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream with her.  

What’s more, I felt bad that because of my son, two other parents had to pick up the pieces of their child’s broken heart.  I know what it feels like to be there, completely powerless, knowing that the only way it’s going to feel better is with time.  

As I navigate yet another break-up with one of my sons, I’m reminded of my own heartaches so many years ago.  While they were certainly painful, years of life experience allow me to reflect upon them differently.  I’m now able to view the people who’ve come and gone in my life with love and appreciation.  No one can spend time in our hearts without leaving a part of themselves behind.  Most times, those remnants are gentle lessons that propel us forward in ways that we can’t even imagine. 

My son is a long way from the love and appreciation part, and that’s OK.  For now, I’ll be here if he needs me, helping him to scoop up the broken pieces.