I want to show him how to be kinder to himself.
Instead he circles his own heart.
The way a hawk circles what it cannot leave.
My words arrive and fall quietly to the floor.
So much living,
So much learning.
For what?
If I cannot use it now.
I stand alone in his empty room.
I don't know where else to put my hands.
The bed is still unmade.
One sock beneath the chair.
The faint smell of boy.
Already changing into something I cannot name.
Yes,
I remember 13.
Years ago,
I read a story about a tree that gave her child everything,
Fruit,
Shade,
Boughs,
Until the child came back as a man with an axe.
And took the trunk for firewood.
Everyone admired that tree.
I was never sure I did.
I kept wondering why love looked like disappearing.
The door opens.
He returns,
Half-child,
Half-wilderness with eyes like cleavers.
I can almost feel myself reaching for advice,
For answers.
For something he might swallow.
Instead.
I let my hands remain empty.
It is a different kind of giving.
Not another branch.
Not another piece for the fire,
Just the quiet space between us where neither of us knows what comes next.
I think sometimes we confuse love with doing.
We give advice or try to make things better.
We worry.
We say yes when we mean no.
We take on another's pain.
Because we don't know how to watch them hurt.
And perhaps there is nothing wrong with wanting to help.
But sometimes the person we love doesn't need another answer.
They need to know they're not alone.
So what if presence were a kind of deeper love?
What if we could stay close to someone without trying to change what is happening to them?
Not withdrawing or fixing.
Not disappearing into their pain,
But just staying.
I think the body knows the difference.
We can feel the moment we begin reaching for the right words,
The right solution,
Or the thing that might finally make everything okay.
But perhaps we can let our hands become empty.
We don't have to give something away in order to love.
Sometimes we can simply give our attention,
Our willingness to stay here.
And perhaps that's a different kind of giving.
Not another branch.
Just the space for someone we love.
To discover that whatever they're going through They're not going through it alone.
