Do You See a Mouse or a Lion?

Jacob fell half way down the stairs (the whole flight is 6 steps) getting Molly in. I asked him if he was okay, and he said, “Don’t say that Mom! There’s no blood!”

Already at (just about) 4, he’s associating seeing something (like blood) in order to have something wrong. I was really kind of stunned. How did he come to that conclusion? He knows that I’m not like other Mommas. He sees my trach. He knows sometimes I’m really tired. He knows I go to the “hosibal” (hospital) a lot. Yet he associates injury with blood.

Are we truly teaching this to our children? At not even 4? How is this happening? Did I inadvertently teach this to him when he asks for a Band-Aid and I tell him there’s no blood, so he doesn’t need one? (He asks for a Band-Aid for every bump and bruise.)

Maybe I’m reading way too much into this, and he just figured he was okay because there was no blood, ergo he didn’t need a Band-Aid. (He probably didn’t use “ergo”, but you get the picture.)

Maybe I’m oversensitive to it because I’ve been judged so harshly by so many for not always looking sick. I have said before and I’ll say again: Sometimes I wish I could “wear” my illness. Even with a trach! You’d think people would at least ask.

I hate to admit it, but I was just shown 2 days ago that I judge too. (I’m sure I judge more often than that on a less conscious level; but this was a blatant example.) There’s a show on TV right now called America’s Got Talent. A young man named Carlos from Puerto Rico was on the other night. He was very small, his English halting. He was sweaty and nervous, and could barely speak. He told the emcee he was going to sing. I thought, “Oh boy, here we go.”

Carlos opened his mouth and the most beautiful operatic aria came out of this slight little man. We DVR everything, so I was fortunate to be able to hear it again. (And again, and again…) When he sang…the confidence filled the room. He had this beautiful, rich, voluminous voice. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard. He may have looked like a mouse, but he sang like a lion.

I still have so much to learn about life. About not judging the book by its cover. I certainly don’t want to be judged like that. So next time I see a mousy, seemingly uninteresting person, I will beware the lion!