trust me

My sweet little pickle face sat on my lap this evening as I read a very heart-wrenching article about childhood terminal illness and she watched "Scooby Doo" the movie. Of course by the time I finished reading I was bawling hysterically and Lex sat there looking at me in confusion. I tried not to cry. I didn't want to upset her but even though my darling husband may try to argue this on occasion, I am  not a cold-hearted bitch and I turned to mush reading about the heartache these children's parents endure. As a parent I couldn't help but think to myself, I  couldn't do. How do those parents stay strong for their dying children? How could I live without the only thing that really matters to me? I didn't even realize it but I had allowed myself to slide into a very dark series of thoughts that had left my chest actually physically aching. I couldn't pull myself out of it even though Lexi begged "mommy, don't cry. stop crying." Then she held my chin in her tiny little hand  and repeated a line from that dreadful talking dog movie...."trust me." I thought about how just a few days before she watched "Steve" from "Blue's Clues" skadoo into a storybook. She didn't skip a beat as she wiggled her bottom and sang along "Blue skadooed we can too." She jumped up into the air and  face planted on the storybook she had laying on the ground. She was genuinely shocked it hadn't worked and immediately turned to me and shouted "Mom, I can't get in!" My baby girl has faith, lots and lots of faith. And she's right I need to trust her and her faith.