The long weekend is coming to an end.
As always, standing on the precipice of change, I feel a little grief, a little sadness. So here's me breathing into that little grief-shaped hole in my heart, breathing deeply into it, filling it with love and understanding at these emotions that arise and drift.
As a mother, I always worry if I've done enough for D, if I'm doing enough for him. Mostly, I am clueless, because how does one get to define what is enough or too much or too little? How many playdates are too few? Could there ever be too many? How many friends should he have? How much time should he have to himself?
I don't think there are any real answers to these questions. So I remind myself of a long-ago resolve I made to myself; that I will not try to manipulate or engineer life situations out of a desperation to change my current reality. Instead, I will show up as my best self in response to the situation on hand.
So right now, instead of questioning myself to death, I will be grateful for the playdate D was invited to today and not worry about whether or when the next one will take place.
Another thought just occurred to me. What if, at the end of this writing challenge, I realize that I no longer wish to write stories?
Well, we can cross that bridge when we come to it.
For now, I've got a very interesting book to read, and I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep.
Auf wiedersehen, folks!