Mom was already tired when Yuri’s mood suddenly changed. One moment he was quiet, the next his face tightened, eyes squeezed shut, and a loud scream tore through the room. The sound startled everyone. Mom froze, heart sinking, then rushed closer as Yuri’s anger burst out in waves.
He screamed again, louder, closing his eyes as if the world itself hurt him. His tiny fists clenched, body stiff with emotion he could not explain. Mom felt upset, not angry, but worried. Something was overwhelming him, and she needed to reach him without making it worse.
She knelt down, lowering herself to his level, speaking softly even as her chest tightened. Yuri did not listen. He shook his head, screamed again, and turned away. The noise echoed, raw and desperate. Mom closed her eyes for a brief second, breathing deeply, steadying herself.
Slowly, she placed a gentle hand on his back. The screaming continued, but her touch stayed calm and warm. She whispered his name, again and again, reminding him he was safe. Yuri’s breath came fast, then uneven. Tears leaked from his closed eyes, mixing anger with fear.
Minutes passed like hours. Mom stayed patient, though her heart ached. She guided him to sit, holding him close but not tight. The scream cracked into sobs. His body softened, tension melting as exhaustion took over.
When Yuri finally opened his eyes, they were wet and tired. He leaned into Mom’s chest, still sniffling. Mom rocked him gently, kissing his head, her upset easing into relief. The storm had passed.
Later, silence filled the room. Mom knew these moments were hard, but necessary. Yuri was learning to feel, to struggle, to calm. And Mom, even when upset, would be there, eyes open, arms ready, loving him through every scream, until peace returned.
