Faking Sleep

Once when I was about eight or nine I remember being half-awake in the middle of the night, unable to fully sleep because of an intense growing pain in my leg. In my memory, growing pains were like period cramps for your limbs. Anyway, I was only half-aware that I was crying a little bit, and before long I was aware of something else: Grandma Salte, who was in town for one of her many visits, was vigorously massaging my leg. I didn't remember ever waking up to tell her why I was crying, or which leg was hurting, but somehow she'd known. Somehow she'd even heard me crying and come in to do whatever she could to make the pain lessen. I never said a word to her, even when I was awake enough to know what was going on, because something in me was so touched by her care that I just wanted to soak it in. I drifted back to sleep before too long.

I also remember being fifteen, full of typical teenage angst where I'd push Mom away and then come crying to her every time I was upset, expecting her to be there for me. She always was, which was a big show of unconditional love. My self-esteem was typically low, and this carried over into believing my parents probably thought I was as irritating as I saw myself (even though they never gave me reason to believe this). Anyway, I was reading in bed late one night, and I heard Mom coming up the stairs. Since it was after lights-out, I quickly shut off my lamp and faked being asleep. She came into my room to check on me. Before she left, she gently rubbed her fingers along my face and pressed her cheek against mine and gave me a kiss. The whole time I pretended to be asleep, so touched by her affection that I just wanted to soak it in. It spoke volumes to me about her view of my worth. Even now that memory is very powerful, and it reminds me of my mom's unconditional love. She was so nurturing and soft toward me even when I wasn't the most gracious daughter.

I'm so thankful for these two women in my life. I look up to them so much and want to be just like them someday.