Not everything.
Life doesn’t work like a movie, where one conversation magically fixes years of misunderstandings.
Claire was still Claire.
Sometimes she was rushed.
Sometimes she was distracted.
And I was still myself, too.
Sometimes I stayed quiet when I should have spoken.
Sometimes I said yes before checking whether I actually had the energy to help.
But we were learning to pay attention.
When Claire called to ask if I could look after Noah, she began asking more clearly.
“Mom, could you help us on Saturday afternoon? And you can say no if you’re busy.”
The first time she said that, I laughed.
“You can say no.”
At sixty-two, I was discovering that my own daughter could remind me of a right I had forgotten I possessed.
And then, one Saturday, I actually said no.
Not cruelly.
Not coldly.
I simply said, “No, sweetheart. I’m tired this Saturday, and I need some time for myself.”
