It broke her heart into a million pieces. That piercing pain was like the echo of a gong that struck in a silent hall.
She’d just yelled at her little one for being un-mindful and offered him a piece of stern advice. The little fellow, with his big wide eyes, looked at hers and he heard her.
They sat in the car and after 10 odd minutes the anger diffused a bit. Momma felt the strings in her heart tug and reached out to her baby. She rubbed his back, gave him a hug and tried to make small conversation.
Her baby answered, in a choked, uneven voice, even managing some humor and silly stuff in between.
Her heart shattered into a million pieces. Why, won’t you show me your tears, my love? Why won’t you breakdown, let me see your anger, fears and let me bundle you in my arms? Why? Why must you put on this façade to me? To me, your one and only? You are but me, aren’t you?
Why have you learnt to deal with pain, deal with sorrow, why have you grown up and learnt to hide your heart?
Hide even from me? Why do you wear a mask….?
How do I swallow this lump in my throat?