Loved, Held and Safe

I remember a time in my life when I felt absolutely safe and held.  Nothing could hurt me.  I knew without a doubt that I was loved and safe in my mother's arms.  It was the most amazing feeling.

Sometimes I wish I could crawl back into her lap and be held.  To have her stroke my hair and tell me all is well and know without a doubt that it is.

I remember so clearly the first time I understood this in an adult way.  I was about 12 or 13.  It was late summer/early fall.  I had just started seventh grade in a new town and a new home.  It was one of those perfect Autumn evenings.  The air stirring through the windows was still warm with the hint of cooler times to come.  The early evening sounds - that I still cherish - bird songs, frogs beginning to chirp, sounds of kids laughter outside and best of all, the sound of my Mom downstairs cooking dinner.

This perfect evening was seemingly interrupted (in reality it was perfect in it's imperfection).  I recall the crash of noise as several people ran between my house and the neighbors, knocking over garbage cans in their desperation to get away.  Then, the sounds of barking dogs and police searching around my house.  The Police knocked on the door looking for "bad guys" and advised my mom to lock up.

I remember feeling so scared and vulnerable, afraid that the "bad guys" would come into our house and hurt me.  I remember watching as my mom went around and locked all the doors and windows.

I tell her that I am afraid, and what she said to me I will never forget and I thank her for it everyday.

I don't recall her exact words, but what she basically said was, she would give up her life for mine.  She would protect me and my siblings at all costs.  Even if the "bad guys" came into the house they would have to face the Grizzly Bear of my Mother.

I don't think I understood the depth of her love until that moment.  And even though that conversation took place in the blink of an eye - as she was locking up the house, it stopped time for me.  In that moment, my heart was blown wide open, and because of it, I walk differently on this earth.

Even after all the pain that came later, as my mother feel deep into mental illness, I had that gift.  She gave me a precious gift - the gift of a mother's love and the knowing that comes with that - that you are loved, held and safe.

I wish I could tell her again how profound that moment was for me.