If Kisses Could Heal

By Ginger Robinson

When we saw her with her 17-pound, six-month-old son, Thach, they had likely traveled by bus for days from Dak Lak Province. This province is around 500 miles north of Ho Chi Minh City and is part of the Central Highlands plateau, in the midst of rubber and coffee plantations. The highways that head southeast from this region to Nha Trang await modern development.

She appeared so sad during the patient screenings on April 5 at the Odonto-Maxillo-Facial Hospital (OMFH). She averted her eyes initially. But kindness was her trademark. She appeared consumed by concern for her son.

On Monday April 7 she relinquished Thach for his cleft lip surgery (cleft palate repair would follow in the next year or so). I followed him into the operating room. Thach was such a happy baby who enjoyed being on his back and playfully kicking the table cushion. All boy. This free sensation had to be different from sleeping on a hard mat or being confined in a hammock. Kick. Kick. Kick. Stare at the bright lights. Coo. Not a care in his little world.

I went to the recovery room and observed his mother receive him. Thach showed no emergence delirium -- agitated, disoriented behavior -- sometimes seen after anesthesia. He just awoke peacefully. His mother regarded Thach, unbelieving then believing. Quiet tears flowed discreetly.

The recovery room was especially hot on this day. So rather than swaddling Thach, his mother was tasked with a wet washcloth to cool him. Her manner was as if his life depended on her tender wipes across his forehead.

And for good measure, next came her kisses. Regard. Wipe. Kiss. Repeat. And all so delicate. Ah, the healing balm of a mother's touch, the calming sound of her whispered voice, the gentle pressure of loving lips. . . .Healing had begun.

Fully-absorbed, Mama did all her heart could to love her son. Even if she was in the center of a crowd, she would have been oblivious. This was their special moment; a mighty reunion and a mother's dreams fulfilled. Thach's lip was repaired, a step closer to wholeness.

Five days after Thach's surgery his mother wore an unrestrained smile. She handed me her wriggling Thach; a cherished and sacred trust whenever allowed. Bright-eyed and peering, I held "Happy Legs" in my arms. I quickly prayed, "Lord, may this dear child come to know You through still more touches of compassion in his life. Bring blessings and honor to his mother and family for loving him."

Kick away, Thach. You have a long ride home in the arms of the one devoted to loving you.