Someone very near and dear to my heart is involved in something so controversial that I can't even risk you guessing at the pseudonym I make up. Suffice it to say that s/he runs in very elite circles. I mean, we're talking second home on the Riviera type of elite. "Thanks for the lovely birthday gift, Senator," type of elite. But the cost is time. There is an epidemic of parental neglect rampant in the hallowed halls of many coveted prep schools.
My middle daughter might be the most sensitive soul on the planet earth. Tonight she told me, sobbing, that she felt lonely. She cried in turn for each friend, each family member, even a neighbors dog who passed away two years ago. She cried for all the time that's passed in which she hasn't played. SHe cried for all the little issues that break the heart of a soulful five year old, and I listened the whole time. WHen she was done, I wiped her eyes and held her in her little bed and told her about all the wonderful things she can be happy about. I didn't wish for more money or a private jet or "connections". I looked into her round, trusting eyes and I thanked God that when she needs me, I am there. I am there. Such a priceless commodity, time, and I wouldn't trade it for all the money in the world.
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4 comments:
I'm right there with you.
As always, fabulous writing, DA. Wonderful sentiments, too.
I know that feeling all too well. I went through and am still going through feeling guilty at the fact that I had to put my kids in daycare when they were younger, but at the same time I didn't have a choice. I needed to earn a living so that I could give them a roof over their head, clothes on their back, and the food that they ate. When I was laid off from Bradlees, I promised myself that I would only part time so that I could spend more time with them. Although I went back to school to get my Associates Degree, they were only at daycare for a short period of time when they got out of school and I usually waited until they were in bed to work on homework. Although they are older now, they still need me more than ever.
Mon Dieu!
Never feel guilty for providing for your children. (Easier said than done, I know, I still berate myself for deploying when Biggest was a baby. ) The kind of not there, the kind of neglect that I refer to is not only not physically there EVER (boarding school, governess, nanny etc...) but also emotionally unavailable. That, I assure you, is not you.
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