Language of the Heart
I was cleaning up in the kitchen. My older son was getting ready to go to work. Earlier he had been in the kitchen, asking me about his red tie and his work pants. Now downstairs, I heard him say something like: "Mom,....Oh No!" I went to his room to see what was wrong and found the door closed. Me: I couldn't hear you, what's going on? Him: Calm down, nothing's wrong. Me: I know nothing's wrong, just tell me why you called me. Him: Mom, don't worry. (Something about that phrase always makes me really worry. So, talking through the door,) Me: Please just tell me what it is. Him: Oh, I thought I had lost something and then I remembered where it was. Me: Oh, O.K. Thanks for telling me. (As I got ready to leave, I heard him again.) Him: It's just that I really don't like it when you worry. (Switching into his "young Iranian lingo,”) Him: Maman, chet nazan! Me: I wasn't worried, just curious. Chet nazadam baba! (Still in his room and through the door) Him: Mom, I can always feel your emotions through your voice and words. I know when you are worried. There is something in your voice when you have panicked, and when I hear it, I panic too! Me: …………. I think for the first time since he was born, my son and I have started to speak the same language--the language of the heart.