Finding a Voice

Yesterday afternoon I was walking in the academic building and just wanted to cave in, to collapse on the floor anywhere. But I made myself keep moving all the way back to the office. Around 5:30 I had a good cry with Kim and Michelle while Kim rubbed my back and neck and played with my hair.

Kim wanted to take care of something for me, anything, so I let her order some endira bread (Ethiopian) for tonight's international potluck dinner, and she called my worship team leader to say I wouldn't be able to make practice that evening. I just couldn't meet any more obligations. Michelle offered me supper, which I accepted. She's my downstairs neighbour, so meals with her are very convenient and always tasty. While I was finishing up at the office, Cheryl called. We haven't seen or talked to each other in months and she was coming to town, so could we see each other. I told her the situation and that I had cancelled a prior commitment but could see a friend for an hour.

Cheryl came around 8:00 and brought her 2-year-old girl, Leslie. As in my other post, I could hardly hold two thoughts together let alone articulate them, so between that and a busy 2-year-old the conversation was pretty disjointed. Yet it was helpful to have a vibrant little child around. We played peek-a-boo. Leslie would go behind me and I would coo, "Where's Leslie?" until she popped out giggling. After a few times I started saying, "I'm going to get you!" At first she would try to run past and I would catch her. Then she started running straight for my lap, arms up, ready to be scooped into a big squeeze and a cuddle.

Cheryl, who had her first baby a 40 (Leslie is the second), commented, "I don't know about you, but when I was single I often felt that I didn't get touched enough, and children were always so good for me that way."

Indeed. Play therapy. Ahhhh.