Parent love. Being a human almost always dictates that you were a child….first. Someone’s child. Maybe you had a mom and dad. All families look different. But that really doesn’t matter. A family is family and you grew up somewhere.
Being a child is somewhat an odd thing. Because no matter what age you are, you are ALWAYS someone’s child. But those rolls change so much over the course of a lifetime, don’t they?
no matter what age you are, you are ALWAYS someone’s child
As an infant, you are completely dependent on your mother. For food. For clothing. For every basic need. You clearly would not survive without someone taking care of you. For most of us that is our mother. We grew in her womb. We heard her voice first. Felt her touch first. Looked into her eyes first. She was our first love.
And then toddlerhood. Oh, how we begin to idolize those or that parent in our life. They seem like rock stars to us. Larger than life. The sun rises and sets with them. The love that flows from them to us? It feeds us, sustains us, contents us.
In elementary school, we start to push and pull a little bit. More of a push, then run back! A little bitty scratch sends us running to mama. A slight tummy ache, we need consoling. We just are starting to explore our boundaries a bit. How far before we need to come back to that security we depend on. We still need them for so so much. We rely on them. They are our world.
