Sorry Your Head Hurts, Do You Want Something to Eat?

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“I am becoming water; I let everything rinse its grief in me and reflect as much light as I can.” – Mark Nepo

Last night we were having dinner on my brother’s World War II era tugboat. He has lovingly renovated it over more than 20 years so that it’s very comfortable for him and my sister-in-law to live on, but it still has a lot of steel edges to bump into. Which is what happened – my 2-year-old son was looking out a port hole, stood up quickly and bonked his head. My sister-in-law was standing there with me, saw him do it and as I picked him up, showered him with sympathy.

But 30 seconds later (maybe longer but not much), my sister-in-law said to my son, “What’s the matter, Buddy? Are you hungry?”

It struck me as a common thing we do as humans. It’s hard to witness someone else’s pain. So we express sympathy and then we are ready to move on. Three things strike me about this.

First, we often move to trying to solve the problem. I find this impulse, especially as a parent, to be so alluring.

Second, if things last longer than we expect, we try to conflate the pain with something else as my sister-in-law did. Is it not surprising that we grow up confused about what our feelings are if the grown-ups around us think that what is wrong is that we are hungry when really our head hurts?

Third, we compound the original pain with our discomfort at sitting with someone in pain. So that they often are moved to pretend the pain has stopped so that they don’t have to contend with both their own pain and the pain of the people who are witnessing it.

It’s hard but sometimes the best thing to do when someone is in pain, is just sit with them. As a mom, I want to reach for the ice pack, the bandage or the song but I’m working on just letting the tears fall onto my arms as I hold them. We have to clean our wounds before we bandage them and, in a way, letting the injured party cry for as long as necessary is the best first step.

28 thoughts on “Sorry Your Head Hurts, Do You Want Something to Eat?”

  1. I think you have it right, Wynne. Depending on the scale of suffering there are often no words. Abiding is both all we can do and the best we can do.

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  4. Wonderful words to wake up to today. To take it a step further when I was studying to become a therapist (retired now) one professor taught us when a client was crying to not even bring out the tissue box. She explained that this could cause a premature end to the tears but instead let them ask for the tissue box. Brilliant 💕 in other words let the tears flow…

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    1. What a wonderful comment and lesson, Victoria! That is brilliant and I had never thought of the tissue box. Wow, that is a powerful way to just sit with tears until they are ready to be cleaned up. Thank you for this gift of a comment!

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  5. What a beautiful way you have Wynne of nurturing your children. You’re absolutely right in letting the tears fall. Acknowledging the pain, whether physical or emotional is the gateway to acceptance. It’s only through acceptance we move on. Never through denial, or distraction. Love your thoughts.

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    1. A gateway — what a wonderful word for it, Alegria. Thank you, my friend, for the encouragement and affirmation. Now that you say it, I see we walk through gateways all the time. Beautiful!

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  7. You sound like a wonderful mom – I agree, we do forget to just sit with someone and let them know we’re there for as long as they need us, so much distraction. Lovely post!

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    1. I love how you put it – just sit with someone and let them know we’re there as long as they need. It’s hard but beautiful work. Thank you for this lovely comment!

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  8. This is certainly an interesting perspective. And I agree with you about validating and letting our kids feel their emotions before we try to bandage the pain. Hope he’s feeling better now. 🙂

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    1. Thanks, Ab! Yes, he’s fine. I suspect we all took a lot of knocks on our noggins in the day. I love that you say “validating” as that’s probably another thing we do when we move on too quickly – invalidate that it’s okay to feel. Thanks for this lovely comment. Hope you all have a great weekend!

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  9. Oh, poor little guy. But when I read what your SIL said, I thought she was cleverly trying to take his mind off the pain by offering him some food. That seems like a decent tactic. It’s harder to feel the pain when you’re distracted by what’s happening in your mouth and in your hands. I thought she was trying to take the pain away from him quicker.
    Or… she just knows nothing about kids! 😛

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    1. Excellent point, Betsy. She didn’t actually have any food for him but I think her mind was on getting dinner on the table for everyone. Perhaps if she’d thought about it, it would have been a different reaction. But you are right, activating another sense is a very rich strategy!

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      1. It’s a strange thing, though human, that people have a hard time knocking their brain from thinking whatever is all-consuming to them, to care about what others’ need. I see it frequently around here. Someone doesn’t desist in telling a story even though their little brother is crying right next to them. :/

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  10. Beautiful post, Wynne.
    Hope the little fella is doing fine.
    I love this sentence, “We have to clean our wounds before we bandage them and, in a way, letting the injured party cry for as long as necessary is the best first step”.
    No matter how old my children get, when they are hurt, just holding them close to my heart works better than comforting words or well-meant advice.

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    1. I love this affirmation since you are clearly a great parent and have been one for far longer than me. I find it interesting how strong that pull is to solve it and move forward but there’s such wisdom in just “holding them close to my heart” as you say so perfectly, Chaya. Love this comment!

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      1. Thank you, Wynne.
        I had to practice a lot to bite my tongue every time I opened my mouth to warn/comfort/advice/chide when my two were growing up. My son and daughter are older, wiser, and sensible, yet, I have work hard to curb my instinct to say something. As you said it is a motherly instinct to want to protect our children from any kind of pain.

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