Papa will you read to me please?

“Papa, will you read to me please?” My daughter asked my husband and her father last night and it sent shivers down my spine. Making me realise how quickly the carefreeness of summer had flown by and my children were signalling that it was time to get back to their routines. The ones that make them feel the most comforted. The ones that end their day with sharing.

I had been sitting at my computer trying to decide what to write. What to do next when I heard those words. I listened as my husband hesitated. Not seeing his face but feeling the surprise on his face that he had been asked. Listening to him reply, “Sure, I’ll read to you.” I could feel my daughter’s pleasure through the walls and imagined her snuggling in tight to her papa so she could feel the sound of his voice reverberating through her. Comforting her.

I got up from my computer and walked to my 13 year old son’s room. Opened the door and walked in. He was lying on his stomach reading a book. I hesitated for a moment not sure what to do. He did not turn but I asked hesitantly, “Would you like me to read to you?” He turned and looked at me. Expression confused. “If you want to,” he replied in that 13 year old way that those of us who have adolescents know all too well. And at first I was going to get indignant with him for his sullen reply but cast it aside because of the feeling I had experienced hearing my 9 year old asking to be read to by her father. So I persisted.

“Would you like me to read to you?” I asked again.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Did we finish the last book of Eragon?”I asked.

“No,” he replied.

“Should we finish or should we do something else?”

“No," he said, “I would like us to finish Eragon. I have wanted us to finish it for a long time.”

“So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I thought you were too busy,” he replied.

My heart nearly broke when he said that. Here I was thinking he was thinking he was too old for me to read to him since his sullen moods had escalated. His adolescent noncaring attitude sometimes pushing us apart. But what he wanted more than ever, as did my daughter, was our routines of being read to every night. Somehow we had stopped reading together during the summer holiday. Everyone too busy doing their own thing. Off on our own. Not sharing that end of day intimacy that opens the door for conversations that would not otherwise happen.

I got the book off his desk and sat on the edge of his bed. Close enough that we were touching but not too close to make him feel his space had been invaded. And then I started reading to him. And got the biggest surprise and lesson when I was least expecting it. On the first page of the book, I read a line that was a reminder of a message I had forgotten all about. A message that had been told to me last year during a Reiki session when I was seeking direction and the phrase was, “Choose wisely.” Goosebumps appeared over my arms as I read and reread that phrase several times. Explaining to my son that it was a reminder to me that life is all about the choices we make. And last night I had chosen wisely to read to my son and we both enjoyed every minute of it. Neither of us wanting it to end. Snuggling together reading for over a half hour. Re-establishing that intimacy that we had lost.

Sometimes our children are our angels. Sometimes they are our demons. Always they are here to teach us more about ourselves and themselves. Last night I learnt it is those simple routines that often mean the most to our children. That bring them back into our fold. And I’m glad I took heed of my message last night to choose wisely and I will carry that message with me today and all the days to come because the most rewarding pleasures in life come from the choices we make from the heart.