Saturday, February 20, 2010

The Saddest Sound

Perhaps the saddest sound in my world is the sound of Elli crying. I'm not talking about her grunts and growls, her unhappy shouts, or even her angry wails. I'm talking about the times she is earnestly and quietly sobbing. It absolutely breaks my heart. Very few of her sounds are traditional communication, and she often makes sounds indicating she's unhappy with whatever is going on around her. (She also often makes sounds of great joy-most frequently unintelligible words sung to the tune of her favorite children's songs and sung at the top of her lungs. It's really cute.) But occasionally she quietly cries and has tears stream down her face. This engenders such a tenderness in my heart towards her. What is going on in her dark little world? What unmet need is causing her this sincere heartbreak? When she is feeling this way, she generally won't respond to questions like "What do you want, Elli?" So there's not much you can do to comfort her other than hold her and sing or talk to her. Last night she felt this way as I put her to bed. I tried to comfort her, and after awhile, she did seem to feel better. I just wish that she could explain what's in her heart.

This morning when she woke up, she was still somewhat in this mode. When I asked her if she wanted oatmeal, she just whimpered. I asked her if she wanted curry (leftover from last night-one of her favorites!) she still whimpered. Then, she sang the first bars of "Frosty the Snowman" in a a choked up, quavering voice. So I rocked her and sang Frosty the Snowman. When I was done, I again asked her if she wanted oatmeal or curry. She repeated her tear-stained request for Frosty, so I sang it again. Oh to know what unmet longing was stirring her soul. Why did this particular song bring her peace? I truly look forward to the day I can meet her after the resurrection. When she will have a mind that functions properly and eyes that can see. I believe we will have some great conversations and some wonderful hugs!

Jeremy