In my family, we're all very analytical. This means we spend a good portion of our time trying to avoid the fact that emotions actually exist in the world around us. We figure it makes life a lot easier if we don't have to deal with that crap.
But what I love about kids is the intensity with which they experience emotion. It's the full range, from jumping-up-and-down joy to tear-your-heart-out sadness.
I remember when we first got our dog Max. We'd had him for approximately 3 days. I was babysitting at the time and Peter was maybe three or four years old. Anyway, the dog got out of the yard and I ran around a bit looking for him. But I couldn't leave the house because David was napping and you generally don't leave a 2- and a 4-year-old alone for any length of time. But I had to tell Peter that the dog was gone because he was asking me why I was running around. He helped me call for Max from the front porch for a bit, and then he just sat down on the steps and started crying.
"I miss Max," he said with such conviction that I started crying too. Not because I missed the dog- I'd experienced many runaway dogs in my day- but rather because there was exactly nothing that I could do to make it better.
P.S. This is why I'm such a weirdo.
1 comment:
You're not a weirdo when you're connecting with intensity of real life lived in emotions. When you do that, you're just human. Beautifully so.
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