Once, my husband had to go to work, and I was sick. Our children were still very young. They were under 12 years old.
I moved to another room to rest. Beside my bed, my husband had put warm drinks, cookies, tissues (I had a bad flu), and so on. After taking the medicine, I slept very soundly.
When I woke up, I met the worried eyes of my youngest child. He looked at me with his innocent face. He had been sitting there for quite a while without making a sound.
“Mommy just needs to sleep. Don’t worry,” I said.
He asked if I needed anything and left the room when I asked him to bring more mineral water.
My oldest child, in contrast, did not show any concern for my condition. The faint sound of the PlayStation game from the living room drifted into my room. He turned on the light once or twice as if searching for something in the room where I was lying.
That’s bothering me. I shouted to turn off the light and come out immediately.
After I recovered, he admitted that he wasn’t looking for anything. He just wanted to check on me. “I came to check your breath, Mama.”
Oh, he was actually worried that I wouldn’t wake up again but did not show it at that time.
I still remember the attention ever given by my children. They showed it in different ways, according to their respective characters.
I believe that paying attention to family members who are unwell or feeling sad can help lift their spirits. Much of our suffering comes from a lack of attention. One can survive in poor economic conditions, but a lack of attention from loved ones is more painful.
my thoughts on the environment, travel and life reflections 