One day, Claire called to ask if I could look after Noah the following Saturday.
I had already arranged to meet a friend I hadn’t seen in months.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t on Saturday. I’ve already made plans.”
I waited for her response.
“That’s okay, Mom. We’ll find another solution.”
Then she added, “Enjoy your day.”
When I hung up, I smiled.
It wasn’t a victory over my daughter.
It was a small victory over the old fear that had followed me for decades.
The fear of disappointing people.
The fear of no longer being needed.
The fear that if I stopped giving so much, I would eventually stop mattering.
I had finally understood something important.
Love is not a debt.
And our place in someone’s heart should never depend on how exhausted we’re willing to become.
The Question My Grandson Asked Me
One evening, a few months later, Noah came over for dinner.
