I’m Amber, thirty-four, married to Jack for ten years, and have a seven-year-old daughter named Mia. I have recently been busy than I have ever been in my life, which is saying a lot given that I am a corporate attorney. My mother’s health has deteriorated over the last year, and we’ve been devoting ourselves to her hospitalizations, therapy sessions, and medication, which have cost far more than I’d care to admit.
To pay for everything, I’ve been working long hours because I’d do everything for my mother.Jack has been the best partner and rock I could possibly ask for. He has stepped up at home in ways I never imagined or expected. Jack has taken up cooking, cleaning, assisting Mia with her academics, and managing all of the minor things that I used to handle.
Last night, though, everything changed before I could catch my breath. I arrived home late, exhausted, hungry, and about to fall. After hurriedly eating a bowl of salmon and rice while Mia had a bath, I put her to bed. Mia mumbled about puppets as she went asleep. “I didn’t know that you could put your hand in a socket and it would be a puppet,” she joked.
“A sock, my darling,” I explained. “This is not a socket! Don’t ever put your hand in a socket, Mia. I started by tidying up her dolls that were scattered across the carpet in her room, then moved on to the coffee table in the living room. That’s when I found it. A sketch. A child’s drawing of a happy family. A man, a woman, and a young daughter are holding hands. But as I looked closer, my stomach twisted.
The man was named Jack. The little child was obviously Mia. How about the woman? Definitely not me.She had long brown hair and wore a flowing bridal dress. Under the drawing, in Mia’s little handwriting, came the words that broke my heart: I can’t wait for you to be my mother! I moved the picture to Mia’s bed and perched on the side, trying to awaken her enough to get answers.
“Darling girl, can you tell me about this drawing?” I asked her softly. Mia’s cheeks reddened as she stared at the artwork, and she grabbed the paper from my hand and clutched it to her chest. “You were not supposed to find that! “Daddy said to hide it better!” She blurted out. How about hiding it better? Jack? What better way to hide? I barely slept that night. My thoughts raced. I thought of my mother, the duties I still needed to complete before heading to work the next day, and my marriage.
By morning, I was sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Jack to prepare for work. Mia had already left for school. “What is this?” I demanded, putting the drawing into his hands. “Wait, wait,” he muttered, raising his palms in defense. “It’s not as you think, Amber. Let me explain everything to you.
“Come with me,” he asked.
“We’re heading to Mia’s school. “I need to show you something,” he explained. When we arrived at the school, Jack squeezed my knee. As we approached the registration area, he grabbed my hand and asked for Mia’s teacher, Clara. She had to be the woman in Mia’s drawing; it was obvious. “Look, Mia’s been having a tough time lately,” she told me. “She has mentioned feeling as if her mother no longer has time for her.” I attempted to reassure her, but she’s just seven. “And she’s been drawing a lot of pictures to process her emotions.”
Clara handed me a stack of sketches, and I felt my heart drop as I looked through them. “So, you’ve been spending time with my daughter?” I asked, unable to conceal the edge in my voice. As I gazed at Jack, my chest tightened. Jack appeared unhappy. “I found that picture last week,” he said. “I told Mia it wasn’t true, that you adore her more than anything. But I wasn’t sure how to handle it. I didn’t want to make matters worse by bringing it up when you were already stressed up. I urged her to keep the artwork away because I knew it would harm you.”
That night, Mia and I sat at the kitchen table. I had offered us bowls of ice cream with all of the toppings, hoping for a bonding experience between us. “Sweetheart,” I spoke softly. “I need to tell you something. I know I haven’t been around much lately, and I sincerely apologize. Grandma requires a lot of assistance right now, but that does not mean I don’t want to be with you. “You are my everything, sweet girl.”
Mia’s eyes welled with tears, and she embraced me. “I love you more than anything,” I whispered, clutching her hard. “Nothing will ever change that.”In the weeks that followed, I made some lifestyle changes. I also had a heartfelt talk with Clara, praising her for being a wonderful teacher and for being there for Mia when I couldn’t. Life is not perfect, but it is significantly better. I’m learning to ask for help and prioritize Mia first. And now, whenever she picks up her crayons, I make sure to sit right by her.