Stay With Me

Yesterday, Herself spent some time helping Offspring the Third go through some pre-algebra problems in preparation for the end-of-semester test.  She likes the math.  He has a like/dislike relationship with the math; he is very pleased when he understands, and is quite frustrated when he does not.  His math teacher has strongly encouraged him to stick with the course, even though it is difficult (and, ultimately, optional).  He has been valiant and dutiful, getting right to work immediately after coming home from school. Herself is very proud of him.

They took a brief break.  Offspring the Third bounced a large exercise ball against the couch with his foot, as he so often does, to relieve stress and to enjoy the sensation of physical activity and touch of the ball. He stopped for a moment, turned to Herself, and said:

Don't ever leave home until I am old enough to have a job and a place of my own, OK? 

He paused, and then added:

You are the only one who understands.  

Pause.

About math.  

Pause.

And other stuff. 

It was quite clear he was not talking about schoolwork.

Tender-hearted manchild.  How delighted, and touched, and relieved are we, that you feel Herself understands. Everyone should have the security of feeling understood.

Herself, her mind still full of the horror at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut, knows that life is fleeting and that terrible things happen.  She cannot make promises she cannot keep.  Yet she knew she must reassure him as much as possible.  And so, she replied:

I promise that I will do everything I can in my power to always be here for you.

He seemed satisfied.  They returned to math.

And other stuff.

Love allows understanding to dawn, and understanding is precious. When you are understood, you are at home.― John O'Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom