I see you. I see myself.

Just as we wrap up our conversation, I hear your daughter T squeal in the background. I hear her talk excitedly to you punctuating her baby talk with ample “mommy”s. I hear the contentment and the happiness. I picture you giving your daughter a hug and see a smile play on your face as you ignore her demands for water and try and get some solid food into her tummy.

I hang up and let out a happy sigh. You see, I often see myself in you. I hear you voice your fears and see mine reflected in there. I share your wonderment and the anxiety. When I see you secure in your role as T’s Amma, I see myself. When I hear a resonant “Amma” from T I hear Kay and Cee.

I look forward to our conversations for I can be myself without inhibitions. Lay it all bare without reservations. I cherish the little network we are building. The occasional get togethers ostensibly for the girls to know each other but really for us to band together and fortify ourselves for the tumultuous times ahead.

I look at you and see parts of me reflecting back. For that and more I thank you P.


Author. Parent.

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