"Do They Hold You Up?"

Now I am W-A-Y behind in my blog-journal-ramble, which has to do with laptops, Picasa, scheduling my surgery (pre-op-procedures) unexpected accumulations of snow and the attempts to commute thru it, and exhaustion, internet connectivity, and an avalanche and outpouring of LOVE -- and my efforts to respond to that love: all rolled into one. These are pictures from my monthly visit to Children's Hospital last week. I am wearing my set of surgery scrubbies over my heart-boots to work in the infant room, but notice my tights, (this is your foreshadowing clue.)

I was more than a bit 'over-wrought' to go to one of my favorite places with the news of my impending surgery and further tests hanging over my head. I knew that there would be hugs of support. I knew that there would be encouraging hugs, I knew that there would be lots of expression of love...... and I knew that would pull me off of my little isle of DaNile.

Best to jump right in with big boots.

I had a group of about 3 dozen toddlers on that particular winter's morning. Maybe more. We were singing all the familiar kiddie songs. I was strummin' away and we were all singing the infamous Barney song: "I love you, you love me........" This little teeny tot, bellows out, "Debbie I LOVE you!!!"

I literally started crying midverse.
So the teachers started singing 'for' me.
Which of course made me cry more.

This was at minute number 3 of a 20 minute session. I started squeezing my toes and pinching my inards to regain some composure. Anyhow, plop plop plop plop plop came the tears. Three dozen children looked at me..... and then sent me their collective nonverbal love.

I wish I could explain it.

They are not even three years old. Some cocked their heads, others crinkled their foreheads, some appeared a bit perplexed, but they all just sent me their love galore. Communally. They had no idea why that sadness had overcome me, nor did it matter in the least. They just loved me unconditionally.

After the teachers got done singing the song, I told the kiddos to close their eyes for their surprise...... which gave me 10 or 15 seconds to regroup...... and on with the show.

I put this 'conclusion' up on my FB page that same afternoon:

We were all done singing, and they were filing out of the room. This wee-teeny-might-of-a-boy, who barely stands taller than my boots, is walking past me as I hold the door open. He pats my knee and says, "What are those?" (He is asking about my black and pink striped tights.) I tell him, "Those are my stripes." He wrinkles up his entire face and says "Do they hold you up?"

WOW!! Do they hold you up? There's enough meat in that question for an entire book's response.

Out of the mouths of babes. Yes, angel-child, the stripes do indeed hold me up so that you can hold me up, with your unconditional love & acceptance, joy & brand-new laughing heart. You see things I forget to look for.

Thank heavens it was my last class in that building and I had to walk outdoors into the frigid air to my car and drive a few miles to their other building. Again, with the regrouping.

I've been thinking about that collective 'toddler' response since it happened. I can't yet express it, but they weren't the least bit dismayed that I would start crying mid-song. Then I got to thinking about toddlers & how they cry on a dime -- with every wittle tumble, injustice and missing blankie. It's done me a lot of good, to consider & conclude that I can keep singing, literally in the midst of my tears, and that I won't upset the children.
Now the teachers........ I don't suppose there was a dry eye in the room.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause. Yes, Virginia, the children hold me up..... with help from the stripes & polka dots. YES!!