EKO, Mekos, One Day discussed on Modern Love
Like, every motherless mother I live with an acute awareness that I can be taken from my children at any time. My biggest fear is leaving them before they can manage alone. Forcing my daughter to care for from me EKO wasn't punishment. It was preparation. If she too had to face motherhood without a mother one day, she'd be better equipped than I had been. But here's where the plan fell apart. By focusing on what I'd lost. I'd lost sight of what my daughter had. If heaven forbid she had a baby anytime soon. She wouldn't have to do it alone. I'd help her. Of course, I'd help her. I'd be there. I was there. And I realized that what this experiment inspired in me, wasn't anger or resentment. But envy. I was envious of my daughter because she had me. That afternoon I met her at the bus stop with an apology. I'll take from EKO today. I said. It's okay, mom. She said breezily. I decided to bring him with me. In my absence. She'd figured out a plan. Wasn't that what I wanted? Then why did I suddenly feel so sad? The next morning for Mekos last day of school. We woke to a soft rain. After breakfast. I daughter strapped him to her chest one last time. Shrugged on her raincoat, crabs an umbrella, and hugged me goodbye. From the front window. I watched her walk to her father's car. I was proud of her for making it through the week. I was proud of myself for finally backing off. And then just as I was about to turn away. I saw a moment of such grace. It nearly stole my breath. As my daughter bent to get into the car her jacket bunched open, and she automatically rounded her shoulders and moved her umbrella closer to keep from a dry. The natural gesture of maternal tenderness was so small it would have been easy to mess. But I think somehow. It was meant for me to see..