Last night, I woke up in the middle of the night with the worst
headache I had ever had. When my usual efforts left me with no relief
and it only got worse, I woke my husband. While thoughts of rushing to the
ER due to a brain hemmorage ran through my mind, he kindly attempted to
nurse me with hot compreses, a new dose of Ibuprophen and comforting
words.
As I lie there suffering, tears rolling down my face, I
thought back to the time recently that my 12 year old son woke me up in
the middle of the night due to a bad headache. (it is "allergy" season
here in the south, by the way) and I told him to take some aspirin and
try to go back to sleep.
All night, last night, I could not get this thought out of my head . I kept thinking to myself,
"What
happened to the days of rushing up in the middle of the night to care
for my sick child?".
Now that I am feeling better, my rational side can justify that he is older now, and it was something he could do himself. But, after last night, I was STRONGLY REMINDED that we are never too old to be mothered and sometimes, for whatever reason, we all need a dose of TLC.
When he returns from school today (I even slept through getting everyone going this morning which is unheard of), I will tell him that "I am sorry" for that night and will promise to get up next time he needs me in the middle of the night, no matter what.
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