Parenthood: Week 272.5 – The Privilege Of Being Present For Tears

There are events that make me want to hug my children a little bit longer when I say goodnight, and give them an extra kiss. I felt this way after Diana’s maternal grandfather passed away. The night after the Parkland tragedy, I fell asleep lying next to Ollie holding his hand, and every night this week, when I kissed my Ethan and Ollie goodnight I hugged them a little bit tighter, took a moment to inhale their scent, and tell them how much I loved them.

It felt like there was a “disturbance in the force” this past week.  I’m not making a Star Wars reference to make a light out of this horrible situation, but rather to make a point about our interconnectedness.  As I went along daily life, experiencing the incredible privilege, blessings, and good fortunes of my life, I couldn’t escape this empathy I had for these children and parents separated at our southern border.

Hyperbole and expletives fail to describe the horror of the family separation that has been happening at our Southern border. Today, I read about an 18 month old child, who refused to be put down by a foster worker, confused, and scared. This child has no way to understand what is happening, has no means to advocate for him or herself. The child can’t tell people his or her parents name, or phone number. The worker talked about how there is no path, or process, or adequate for reunification. They described reuniting children with their parents as a “scavenger hunt.” Nancy LeTourneau described it perfectly in her article that this tragedy is a result of “this administration’s malevolence combined with incompetence.”

I know that I benefit from numerous level of privilege, but it wasn’t until this past week, that I understood the privilege of being present for my children’s tears. Both Ollie and Ethan had challenging moments this past week. Nothing to be alarmed about, or unusual for their age, just tantrums and meltdowns. Tuesday night it was especially bad, and after both kids were finally asleep it hit me. I got to be present for my children’s difficult moments. I was able to work through them with them, give them space to work their feelings out, coach them through their emotions, and hold them and remind them that I loved them when they calmed down.

There are parents right now, in our country, who know that their children are going through some of their most difficult moments, if not the most difficult moment of their lives, and these parents are not able to be with them. I realized in that moment, that as annoyed and frustrated as I got with my children, my time with them, even when they are throwing a tantrum, is a blessing, and I promised Ollie and Ethan, and myself that I would never take that for granted.

The only way that we can make this right is by giving these families is by reuniting them, providing all of them an expedited pathway to citizenship, giving these families long-term psychological services, setting these children up with full-ride college scholarships, and reparations. The frustrating thing is that this current administration will not be held financially responsible for their actions. My tax money will go to any meaningful efforts by the next administration to make this right, but I will accept this, because this is what we do as citizens.

It’s called responsibility.

I've been thinking about these lyrics from "Dear Theodosia:"

I’ll make the world safe and sound for you
Will come of age with our young nation
We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you
If we lay a strong enough foundation
We’ll pass it on to you, we’ll give the world to you.

This promise to my children is only getting more difficult, but I'm not giving up, we have to make this right for our children, not just our biological children, but the ones we have ripped away from their families, because they are our children.