I listen to audio books on my commute, and today I learned that you can know a lot about a person by the way they narrate their life. If the stories routinely feature triumph over adversity, or optimism in the face of challenges, that tells you something about the person.

If the narrative is sad, that tells you something, too.

Normally I try to make my narrative one of ‘this crazy thing happened to me (described self-deprecatingly) and then we all laughed.’

I do not believe I will be able to do that today.

I am finally home after a long day, and for a variety of reasons, my mood is not the best. So when I looked through my pile o’ pictures I was drawn to this one.

I have no idea why this picture was taken. I am clearly on my way to work, after a detour taking children to school and daycare. I know I’m on the way out for the day because I’m heading to the car, and the kids’ hair is combed.

This was a typical tableau for us during the mid-90’s. Looking at that baby in my arms, I’m guessing that it’s the summer of 1994 or so and I am heading to a job that would ultimately turn out to be…sub-optimal.

The whole time was a blur for me. I can tell you that the woman in that picture is exhausted, worried, and acutely aware of her inadequacy. She loves her children completely and is constantly concerned that she’s failing as a mother.

I’m getting overwhelmed just thinking about it. I wish I could go back in time to tell her that everything works out, but right this minute I’m standing in the driveway with her, trying to juggle kids and a diaper bag and a briefcase and feeling crappy.

Whoa. This got dark really fast. Tomorrow will be happier, I promise.

What the heck is she doing now?

© E. Stocking Evans 2016