When she sees the anxiousness in her child
She knows it’s her fault
She knows her anxiety has spilled over
Into her parenting countless times
And she recognizes the look in her son’s eyes
She feels it pierce the pit of her stomach
Like a sharp blade: Oh no. – Oh no oh no OH NO!
She cannot fathom
The idea that he’ll be sentenced to a life
Constant self doubt
Is what she is thinking real right now?
Or only panic? Only thoughts?
What if his look is just confusion about something he doesn’t understand?
And not anxiety
She watches him constantly
Trying to read his face
Fighting with her own brain to stop
No. No he can’t go down this path!
So she pulls herself together
Smiles at him and kisses the top of his head
Asks if everything is ok?
And he says yes
She cautiously asks him what he was just thinking about
Already dreading the truth that may come out
He says he wonders how scientists know the skin colours of dinosaurs if all they found were fossils
And her heart lifts up with joy
They were only thoughts
He is okay
He is okay