My presence was her only gift
It’s one of the universe’s strange gifts. When we’re going through hard times, it’s difficult to see the day we’ll be able to smile again. But once we get through those moments and take the time to reflect, it’s often done with a smile and nod to acknowledge what we’ve overcome.
I certainly wasn’t smiling many years ago, not during the holidays. Christmas was a time I feared, a day that reminded me of my inadequacy as a provider for my daughter.
Before my daughter ever entered this world, I dreamt of what her life would be. My imagination soared into a home large enough for her to run with her arms open. My dreams revealed images of gifts under a Christmas tree so tall I’d have to tiptoe to touch the star that sat at its peak. Her life would be perfect. Our life would be perfect.
None of this was real. Five years into my daughter’s life, I still couldn’t afford to buy her gifts. I suffered through the embarrassment on her birthday where my mom’s gift doubled as my own. By the time Christmas rolled around, I wanted to close my eyes and disappear into the world that I had dreamt long before it was shattered by my reality.
I questioned my role as a parent. What was my contribution to my daughter’s life? My upbringing told me that I needed to be a provider, specifically a monetary one. If I couldn’t fulfil that…
