When we first become parents and look for the first time into that
tiny face that made us so, that tiny face that's filled with complete
trust and vulnerability, we silently vow to love and protect that face
as long as there's breath in our bodies. I know we do this. We are
hardwired to protect our progeny, not simply for perpetuation of the
species, but out of love for that tiny being who lies trustingly in our
arms, completely relaxed and open. How could we not endeavor to keep
that tiny person from harm as far as we are able?
Problem is,
kids also grow up and we have to move from Absolute Protector of the
lion cubs to Guidance Counselor/Cheerleader in only a few years. And
it's hard to know when to make tha shift, or how, or about what.
Especially when it's about stuff that we're not all that comfortable
with, like death.
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