The Day I Disappeared

by Brandi Reeds

So he tends to shut down sometimes. His silences can be icy, but what are you going to do? You take the bad with the good. I learned that from my parents.

It doesn’t come naturally to all of us, you know. We’re not all meant to spend our lives performing puppet shows and building with blocks and coloring in books and singing nonsensical songs to entertain our offspring. That doesn’t mean I don’t love my daughter. On the contrary, I wish I’d spent more time assuring her that I do. It’s just like anything, I suppose: I should have done something when I could have.

One of the hardest things about being a mother: watching your kid trip on the same cracks in the pavement you stumbled on.