My girl, a new 13 years of age, is hurting.
It’s not heartbreak. Or friend frustrations. Or the all-consuming emotional pain of teen angst.
Those things will undoubtedly come.
But today, it’s a bad sunburn, and it happened quickly.
It came from a great afternoon of playing in Lake Michigan with her vaccinated friends. She hadn’t hung out with them in so long, and the time together and cool water and sunshine felt great…
Until it didn’t.
She put on the sunscreen I sent with her, but probably could have done a better job putting it on and reapplying. Alas, this isn’t a time for blame.
You see, my girl is a bit of a homebody- even before Covid19 – so this sunburn is a new experience. “Outdoor time” for her most often includes a shady spot, a hammock, and a beloved stack of books.
She is the palest of porcelain kids.
Or, it turns out, she’s RED.
It’s been years since I’ve had a bad sunburn, but oh I distinctly remember that discomfort: the sensitivity, the stiffness, the inability to find a comfortable position… the waiting, and the trusting that it will actually heal and get better.
In this blog I often default to exploring how we sit with – or confront- pain, unknowns, discomfort. I might even get preachy about recognizing inner strength, resilience, blah blah blah from time to time. 😉
But there is also a time and place for seeking comfort in the midst of life’s big discomforts.
Today comfort looks like handfuls of vitamin E and aloe vera gel, generously heaped on hot skin.
It looks like cool showers, ibuprofen, a cool washcloth, loose clothes, and letting her rest.
It looks like reminding her this hurts, but will also – in time – heal.
It looks like patience and soothing and a mama taking care of her not-very-pain-tolerant (and not-so-little) 13yo girl.
Better times, and a healed dermis, will come.
But until then…
take comforts where you can find them, dear one.
alive. awake. uncomfortable. 