Chapter 3
Mommy's Promise
Mommy sends a message, like a warm hug through words. She explains grown-up reasons for her absence, but her love is a shining star that never fades. Mommy promises her heart is always with Little Heart.
Mommy’s voice, even through the little buzzing box, sounded like sunshine and warm blankets. It was a special kind of magic, a whisper that tickled my ears and made my tummy feel a little less hollow. She said she had to go away for a bit, for some grown-up things. I didn’t really understand what grown-up things were. Were they like the big, heavy boxes Daddy sometimes put in the garage that I wasn’t allowed to touch? Or were they like the clouds that sometimes covered up the sun, making everything feel a little dim? Whatever they were, they were taking Mommy away, and that felt like the biggest, scariest grown-up thing of all.
“Oh, Mommy,” I whispered back to the buzzing box, my voice wobbly like a little boat on a big ocean. “I miss you already.” It was true. Even though she was just on the other side of the buzzing box, a whole lot of empty space felt like it had opened up between us. The swing next to mine looked so lonely, just swaying a little in the breeze, as if it missed Mommy pushing it, too.
Mommy’s voice softened, like when she used to hum a lullaby to me when I had a bad dream. “I miss you too, my sweet Little Heart,” she said. “More than words can say. But listen, my love. My heart is always, always with you. It’s like a little light that shines just for you, no matter how far away I am.”
A little light? I tried to imagine it. Was it like the fireflies that blinked in the garden at night? Or was it more like the stars, twinkling from so far away that you could barely see them? I pictured Mommy’s heart, a warm, glowing thing, floating through the air and landing right in my chest, right next to my own little heart. It made it feel a tiny bit warmer.
“But… what if the grown-up things are scary?” I asked, my voice barely a squeak. The World outside felt so big and sometimes, well, a bit wobbly. Mommy going away made it feel even wobblier.
Mommy chuckled, a sound like tiny bells. “Sometimes, Little Heart, grown-up things can feel a little confusing, like a puzzle with missing pieces. But they are never, ever meant to hurt you. And my love for you is never, ever a missing piece. It’s the strongest piece of all. It’s the glue that holds everything together, even when we’re apart.”
Glue. I liked glue. Glue could stick broken toys back together. Could it stick Mommy back to me? I hoped so.
“My love for you,” Mommy continued, her voice steady and sure, “is like the biggest, brightest star in the sky. It’s always there, even when the clouds try to hide it. You can always look up, and know that my love is shining down on you. And it never, ever fades. It just keeps shining, and shining, and shining.”
I closed my eyes and tried to see that star. I imagined Mommy pointing to it, even though she wasn’t here. It was a special star, just for me, that belonged to Mommy. It pulsed with a warm, golden light, and I felt a tiny bit of its warmth seep into my own chest. It was a comforting feeling, like a soft hug from afar.
“And you know what else, my precious?” Mommy’s voice was full of a gentle excitement. “Every single day that I’m away, I’ll be thinking of you. And I’ll be counting the moments until I can see your sweet face again. And when I come back, oh, Little Heart, we’ll have the biggest, bestest hug ever. It will be a hug that says, ‘I love you, I missed you, and I’m so happy you’re here.’”
A hug that said all that? I imagined it. It would be a hug so big, it would wrap around both of us, squishing out all the lonely feelings and filling us up with pure, happy Mommy-and-Little-Heart love. I could almost feel the warmth of it, the gentle squeeze, the familiar smell of Mommy’s special perfume. It made a little smile peek out from behind my sad face.
“So, even when I’m gone,” Mommy’s voice was a soft promise, “remember my love is a constant. It’s a promise that never breaks. It’s the thread that connects our hearts, a thread so strong, nothing can ever snap it. It will always bring us back together.”
A thread. Like the thread that held my favorite teddy bear’s button eye on. It was a little thread, but it held on tight. This thread, Mommy’s love thread, was much bigger and stronger. It stretched all the way from her heart to mine, and it wouldn’t let go.
“And when I get back,” she added, her voice brimming with affection, “we’ll do all our favorite things. We’ll swing so high, we’ll almost touch the sky. We’ll read our favorite stories, and I’ll make your favorite yummy snacks. We’ll fill our days with so much joy, you’ll forget all about the time we were apart.”
The thought of swinging with Mommy again, of her reading my favorite story with her special silly voices, made a little flutter of anticipation in my chest. It was like a little bird, chirping about happy things to come. The World still felt a little big, and the grown-up things were still a bit of a mystery, but Mommy’s words were like little anchors, holding me steady in the wobbly sea.
“I love you more than all the stars in the sky, Little Heart,” Mommy whispered, and I knew she meant it with all her heart.
“I love you too, Mommy,” I whispered back, and for the first time since she told me she had to go, the ache in my chest felt a little less sharp. The buzzing box went quiet, but Mommy’s promise echoed in my mind, a warm, glowing reassurance. Her love was a star, a thread, a hug waiting to happen. And even though she was gone, she wasn't truly gone at all. She was here, in the light of her promise, in the steady beat of my own little heart, waiting for the day when our threads would tangle together again. And I knew, with a quiet certainty, that she would always come back. She always did.