Invisible bonds

See Amma! See!!!

My niece dutifully pointed to the stack of cubes that her Chitappa built for her, her excitement and glee transforming her face into a radiant ball of delight. Even as the evening passed by wrapped in her antics, that particular moment remained etched in my mind. Her short chubby finger pointed to her mom, the joy of discovering that cubes can be stacked three feet high, her first impulse was to share it with the person who was most important in her life. Amma.

I played the scene over and over in my head amazed at the connections children forge. Why Amma? Why not Appa? a voice niggled uncomfortably. Growing up I am not sure how much I remember of my Appa playing with me or even being around as much as Amma. Is it any wonder that I still reach out for Amma every time I have something to share or vent?

But in the times we live in, dads are as involved in child rearing as moms are starting with diaper cleaning to feeding to rocking them to sleep. Yet, my little niece turns face aglow first to her mom before her eyes search for dad. Am sure there are exceptions to the rule but I can’t help wondering if there is something behind the bonds of being held in the womb that extend for the rest of our lives.

Mom to three. Open adoption advocate. Writer.

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