A profound sense of sadness wafts over me. I’m driving my daughter to school. It’s just before 1:00 pm. We are driving in silence.
She will be five tomorrow. I’m thinking back on the first five years of her life. The hope and excitement I felt as a new mom when we first brought her home. The overprotective, I-will-do-anything-to-keep-her-safe feeling that I felt as I lay curled around her in the dark each night. The fear I felt for my own safety as I crossed a busy, rainy street a short distance from our home on my first outing out of the house without her since her birth. What if I got hit by a car and lay dying on the wet road? Who would feed her? Who would love her like I do? Who would help her grow up into the beautiful woman I knew she would someday become? She would have her father, yes. But her mother would be gone. I kept my eyes peeled on the traffic coming toward me for the slightest indication that any driver in their cars on that rainy night might be unable to stop as they approached the cross walk. Continue reading