subject: Alone in the Dark [print this page] Alone in the Dark Alone in the Dark
It was around 10:35 one evening, when my almost two-year-old daughter, Alex, literally begged me to stay in the room with her. As she patted her fluffy pillow with her little chubby hand, she insisted, "You lay down with me!"She seemed afraid of the dark, afraid to be alone and afraid that I would leave her. I assured her that I was just in the next room,and because I didn't want her to be a spoiled and undisciplined child, I tried to play "tough mom." I insisted that she stay there, on her bed, in her own room. But for some reason, on that particular night she seemed to be dealing with something much deeper than just wanting her own way. I could sense her fears. And when I looked deeply into her eyes, I saw my own deep-seated fears staring back at me.
Suddenly I was two years old, afraid of the dark, afraid to be alone. But that's where the similarity ended. I realized that when I was her age, the word "Mommie" meant nothing to me. Nor did the word "Daddy." Also there were no options for me; no one for me to call upon to even make a request for them to lay down with me. There was no special room, painted in asthetic colors and softened pastels. There were no stuffed animals in the toy box, no taped classical music in the cassette player, no laced curtains at the windows or fancy dresses hanging in the closet.
My first four years of life were spent in an orphanage, with an army cot for my bed, a few articles of previously used clothing and one raggedy doll. In my mind Icould smell the musty room that I shared with someone named "Mickey"and Lord only knows who else. I heard the distant sound of another human in the place whom I called "Nanny,"the personpaid by the state to watch us. I had no last name, no roots, no future, no hope, and certainly no one to calm my nighttime fears. And then, to my horror, I realized that my husband never had a Mommie or Daddy to call upon either. And I felt an immediate connection to him in a way I had never ever felt before. I saw that underneath the surface, he and I both were adult-sized children who were still afraid of the dark and still afraid of being left alone. I saw that perhaps we had been drawn to each other because of those underlying fears.
I crawled into her bed, wrapped my arms around her, and tenderly whispered in her ears, "My darling daughter, Alexandra Janae', I love you more than my words can ever tell. If you are ever afraid, Iwant you to look at this mirror onyour wall and remember that I am right behind that mirror. But for now I will not leave you. I will not abandon you. And I pray that God will allow me to live long enough to see you grow up and be able to live on your own." I was so adamant in my speaking that I didn't notice that I was weeping into my daughter's pillow. She turned to me, looked as deeply into my eyes as I had looked into hers, then reached over and wiped my tears. Her hand felt so soft against my face. "No cry, Mommie. It be all right." And with that she drifted off into a peaceful rest. And so did I.
