A Swiftly Tilting Planet

Here's an interesting question: What to do when you're reading a book out loud to your little kids and you get all choked up.

This happens to me all the time. I get emotional, my throat tightens, and my voice comes out sounding cracked and strained. But I have always had a conviction of trying not to lose control of my emotions in front of the kids (except for the positive ones...I have no problem with expressing joy or glee or having a giggle fit), because kids are supposed to feel protected by their parents, not protective.

So, what I do is that usually I just try to gloss over it, to take some deep breaths or rub my nose or cough, to divert the attention. Madison is pretty savvy, though, savvy enough to notice a corrollation between what's going on in the text and my coughing. (Ella is oblivious.) She noticed yesterday morning, when I was reading then A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeleine L'Engle (one of my old favorites). And then today, at lunch, when Duthbert Mortmain hits Chuck and he falls down the stairs--and of course I know what is going to happen after that because I read this book dozens of times as a kid--well, it was just so sad that I just couldn't go on. I actually started crying.

I realized that part of the impetus behind the welling up of these emotions is that I'm experiencing the book on many different levels than I did as a child; I understand the implications of so much more than I did back then, so these books are far more meaningful. Plus, as I read them, I am remembering how I experienced them as a child, noting how I am experiencing them as an adult, and -- at the same time -- comparing the difference between my experiences then and now, and pondering what the difference means. So it's affecting me on many levels now, simultaneously, whereas it was a much simpler experience for me as a child. So, yes, it's no wonder I start crying.

But what to do about it? I don't want the kids to be too concerned.

And, frankly, they weren't, today. They were surprised. They didn't understand why I was actually crying, given what had just happened in the book.

"Does Chuck die?" they asked.

"No."

"What happens?"

"He gets brain damage, and experiences his universe as an oddly shifting one -- as a swiftly tilting planet."

The still didn't understand why it had affected me so deeply. I told them that adults experience books in many more ways than kids do. They seemed to accept that. They weren't particularly concerned that I was crying, which was a good thing. I think there's losing control and losing control; if I was clearly out of control, that would be scary. But as long as I'm still me, I think a few tears shed won't be a bad thing.