A daughter’s pain
Met up with my daughter for dinner. She wanted to talk about something serious.
When we sat down she said she wasn’t going to cry but as she began telling her story, her face flushed and tears briefly flowed.
I held her hand and we talked and talked.
Food and tea came.
We talked some more.
Rivers of emotions flowed through us - sadness, fear, laughter, hope, resolve, uncertainty and so on.
The bill arrived and we talked a bit longer.
I learned of her enduring pain and bouts of suffering. I’d been aware of the surface of it for a good while but she kept the true depth of it within. I understood why because I’ve done the same thing — we hide our suffering so others don’t suffer.
Still, her burden became mine. I took her pain and put it in my heart. That’s what Dads do — when our children bleed, we bleed too.
As we walked back to her apartment and embraced in a warm hug, I saw a glimpse of that beautiful glow of youthfulness in her eyes I’d always seen and quietly wondered if she’d keep it.
I think she will because we’re kindred souls with forever young at hearts.
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