I was mesmerized by a small child and her mom. It wasn’t a pretty scene but it was raw and real.
In an envious way, I wanted to join the little girl flailing on the store floor, crying and furiously pounding the cement. I didn’t know the reasons for her meltdown. I didn’t need to.
She had such freedom to let it all go.
A few steps away, her mom barked colorful expressions to silence her. It was as if the mom wanted to put a lid on the cacophony of life.
Exhausted looking, the mom was on the ledge of her own anger.
I still can’t believe I spoke up and stood in-between the two.
“Isn’t it incredible how they can do that and we can’t?
The mom, gave me a perplexed look, mixed with a slight sense of relief, and surprisingly said,
“Maybe that is what we need.”
The connection between us flickered and in a challenging voice she added,
“What do I do with her now?”
“Hug her. The words will come later.”
The mom semi-nodded, eye contact was brief but it filled the gap of understanding.
I walked away only to watch from a safe distance, the sweet, powerhouse child had finally dissolved into her mom’s arms.
I scrunched my to-do list back into my pocket. I needed to get to my car and let my tears have a meltdown too.