The moments in-between fluttering eyelids left a semblance of balance but no real footing.
Not outside the boundaries of faith anyway.
She visited again. Some three or four years have passed since our last face-to-face and she visited again. Not me -but the lone youth of what it means to have vitality for life, to question and seek understanding. She asked him what he felt, thought, wanted and (of all things) how his Mother was doing. Like she really cares. She doesn't. Incapable probably, but one should not assume.
I would have no difficulty expressing how I truly feel if she were brazen enough to ask me, though I doubt she will.
On certain days I sometimes wonder if I have displaced judgment on her. In fairness, I think there is a steaming heap promised her direction but it is not for me to dole. The meantime brings a little boy once again confused by the cluster of idiocy the adults in his life bring. As if they know; as if they understand what they're talking about. My motherly perspective offers a young lad taking the time to line his bottom bunk with all thirty-seven stuffed animals before bedtime - or what he calls "his babies". He says they "want to take care of their Pappa", and with a labor of love lines them along his pillow - favorites by his shoulders and the bigger, tougher ones at his feet because they're closest to the door.
And there is no problem, right? There is no cause for concern. There must be no issues, no unresolved questions, nothing to warrant an official ad litem doing a job that the quote-unquote ad litem's are supposed to do. I justify his concerns with a soft spoken promise that I do believe him. I verify that he has done nothing wrong and promise that tomorrow will be better for the sake of promise and because Mommies, like Daddies, are supposed to protect.
Not be the danger.
In solitude I comprehend that he is growing with stability, with his own understanding and with a heart that mirrors my own. I can give him a sense of faith, belief, and promise that are not purchased but rather, fostered. I can explain to the best of my ability that there are few things in this world that will hurt more than that of a broken heart and promise never to be the one to do that to him. I cannot promise the same for others too close for comfort.
And after he has drifted off to sleep, I can make sure those thirty-seven babies are lined in their fullest, upright position to protect and love the little boy that means to world to his Mom.
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