(Continued)

Daylight broke on the problem.  If Pavlov could recondition dogs and Lamaze laboring mothers, then why not grieving children?  Returning home, I asked my children what it meant to 'take care of Mom.'  A wide variety of answers hesitantly followed.  With renewed vigor I explained again that I was the Mom and they were the kids.  "I am here to take care of you.  You are NOT here to take care of me.  BUT, I can not take care of you if you do not tell me when bad things happen so I can help you.  So, from now on, let's make 'taking care of Mom' mean telling her when bad things happen so she can take care of you better." 

Throughout that day, one by one, they came and started telling me things that had been happening - a kid made fun of him on the bus, someone yelled it across the lunchroom, etc.  Over the next few weeks I repeated the new meaning so often it echoed off the walls.

Now, when people say, "You take care of your Mom now," I turn and say to them, "And what does 'taking care of Mom' mean?"  They roll their eyes up.  They groan a little.  They sigh (perhaps with relief), "Tell Mom when bad things happen so she can take care of you better."

And my heart smiles for one less load we all have to bear.