There was an unfamiliar toddler at the playground with a bandage on her arm and an anxious mom.
“Oh, you had a blood test,” I commiserated.
I hate blood test day, as you may remember.
I figured the blood draw was routine; lead tests are common here in San Francisco because of all the old buildings. In any event, I didn’t ask for details — I was just generically sympathetic.
Mom, however, after exactly twelve seconds of acquaintance, divulged that her toddler had a serious condition — not usually fatal, but definitely chronic and challenging.
I expressed concern as anyone would, but from her reaction I suspect she didn’t process a single word. She didn’t need advice or even compassion; she just needed to spill her story to a stranger, and I filled the bill.
Nothing can be worse than to watch, helplessly, as your child suffers.
She changed the subject and we chatted for a while. Before I went off to extract Boobaby from the bushes, I gave her my phone number, but I don’t think she’ll call.
Brushing the twigs from my baby, I silently thanked the gods for all ten fingers and every functional corpuscle. And I wondered — could I have said anything differently? Should I have pointed out how her baby was so clearly filled with a toddler’s joy despite her ordeal?
Or just being there without turning away — was that enough?
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
As the mommy/nurse who takes care of these sick kids every day, just being there was probably enough!
Yes, that was enough. Good Doodaddy!
The kindness of strangers is always always balm for the soul. Good for you!!
{ 1 trackback }