- Family and Parenting
A Mother's Revenge - That Bitch Broke My Son's Heart
In God's Hands
My Son's Broken Heart...
Lord, have mercy on the first girl to break my son's heart.
There is no wrath like a mother whose son has been scorned. The fury that comes from within me as a result of my son's heartbreak feels like nothing that I've ever known. I've become angry. I feel hurt, a real painful hurt. This drives me instantly crazy, since I have absolutely no control of this type of pain.
As a mother, I feel all and any pain that runs through my child. When he gets hurt, it causes me a similar physical pain as well. But this time, there is absolutely nothing that I can do to mend his wound. His tears are my tears too.
She Left Me
Patch 'em Up When They Take A Fall...
It has never ceased to amaze me that after the birth of my child, my telepathic intuition became so fine tuned, to this little human being. I found it uncanny how, not only did I become capable of amazing pre-cognizance, but that I actually trusted my intuition. When it came to my child, my mind-reading abilities were fine-tuned and on point. My mommy skills were practically super-human.
My son made it through his life... mostly unflawed,... thanks to my remarkable ability to be at the right place, at the right time. I always made sure to diligently clean his wounds and cuts, whenever he got hurt. All his life, I felt his pain. For every, cut, every bruise, every scrape. I've always been there, bandaging, steri-stripping, stapling, and stitching. And every single time, my child felt pain, I shared that pain; physically and mentally. And by sharing his pain, I actually had the ability to take the pain away from him, and thereby releasing it into the universe.
Motherhood, a Natural Instinct Takes Control...
I've protected my son since the day he was born. When he was just a baby, I woke up out of a dead sleep, walked over to my baby's bedside and caught him while he literally was falling out of bed. On another occasion, while in mid conversation with a friend, I excused myself, and walked over to the stairs casually. Instinctively, I stretched my arms out and caught my tumbling toddler, who at the time was in mid-air, when he came careening down the staircase from the second floor. This was during his crawl-walking stage, when he was just learning how to balance himself without the assistance of the furniture around him. The carpeted staircase had enough padding to protect him. If I hadn't followed my intuition; listened to my inner voice while he careened down the staircase, he would have surely gotten hurt bad if he hit the bottom, an all marble tile floor.
Mommy's Love Can Heal...
After a time, I discovered that I had the ability to fine tune my Mommy-healing skills even more than simply covering up a cut or bruise. When my son turned into toddler who could speak and understand better, I practiced healing his illnesses as well. If he became ill, caught a cold or woke up with a fever, I taught him to do a sort of meditation. We both would become silent, and concentrate on his illness. I told him to concentrate on releasing his sickness and to send it to me through his thoughts. While he kept repeating to himself, "Please Mommy, take my sickness away", I concentrated on accepting his illness as my own.
He always asked me for permission to do so since he knew how crappy he felt and, bless his heart, he didn't want me to feel sick either. I would tell him not to worry, he would get better, and I would be fine. Honest to goodness, this little ritual really does work. His health would instantly improve to about 85-90%, while I would start sweating and peaking a fever.
The first few times, I got pretty sick because I didn't know that I had to release the illness.I soon realized and understood that I didn't need to hang onto the sickness either. As soon as I started feeling yucky, I would focus on releasing the illness into the Universe. After all, that's where it originated, so I taught myself to simply give it back to the air outside, so that my son had no need to suffer. ...and it worked every time, and still does!
How Dare She...
By the time my son was a young man, my healing powers were honed in and fine tuned. Neither of my sons experienced too much pain or sickness during their childhood because of my phenomenal abilities to take their pain away and to heal them.
However, nothing in this world ever prepared me for the excruciating pain and anguish that I experience because my son's first true love broke his heart. How dare she make my Son hurt like this.
The desperation I hear in my son's voice makes me want to go and gouge her eyes out. I feel like a tiger waiting for it's prey. I wait and plan and prepare to pounce in for the kill.
I want to fly over to her house, stalk, and prey, so I could rip her to shreds. I feel like beating her mother's ass for spawning this evil devil-child. How dare anyone intentionally cause pain to my wonderful, innocent child. Especially this little hussy!
@#$%$##$%&**((&*#@@@ to her!
Ya, What She Said!
But alas, I realize that this too, is something, (an injury, an experience) that my son would have to endure on his own. In order to learn, in order to grow...
This is the first and only time ever, that I could not make him feel better. I can't heal him. It isn't my place to interfere with his injury of the heart. This time he would have to put on his own band aid, maybe change it a few times for a fresh one, all without my assistance.
As much as I want to take his pain away, I realize for the first time in his life, I need to quietly step back. It was an epiphany. I accept the fact that in order for him to heal this time, he also needs to feel the pain. He needs to experience this on his own. He needs to breathe in his pain, and feel it uninterrupted. Then when he feels like it, he would have to release the pain all on his own, into the Universe from where it originated, without any intrusion by his mom.
I can simply stand by, and offer him my advice and love, while he wakes up every morning to a brand new world. I tell him I love him. I offer encouragement, while he goes through this on his own. He tells me, he's not really OK. He loves me.
I tell him to be strong and not to go and do anything stupid. And he shouldn't let her get the best of him. I tell him he doesn't have to handle it alone and that's what I am here for. I'm hurting inside because I feel his pain. I love him more than life itself.
How To Heal A Broken Heart
Like A Lioness and her Cubs
© 2011 Helen Kramer