As children, we all have our share of fears, whether it's a fear of monsters that hide in the darkness or under the bed, of thunderstorms that rumble and groan before sending their lightening cracks to illuminate the sky, or for some, dangers far more deadly. As a parent, we all know it's our responsibility to protect our children, to offer them safe haven from every danger that might touch them, real or imagined. But, do our children know that? Do we tell them through word or deed that they are always safe? Even as we make those assurances to them, how do we then live with the consequences if those very promises prove to be lies?
As a child I remember knowing without ever being told, that I could always find safety within the sanctuary of my parents arms. If I woke in the middle of the night, terrified by a nightmare, one or both were there at my bedside within seconds, soothing me, protecting me. I don't remember at what age I decided that I had grown too old to seek safety in my parents arms, I suppose it was just one of those things that just happened, like waking one day to find you'd outgrown your favorite shirt. If I had one regret in life stronger than all others, it's that my own children couldn't have experienced that sense of safety I had known, and I'll never forgive myself for not being able to give them that.