Maturation

You will never be perfect nor even particularly good, but you might just manage good enough. Hers was a complicated birth. She was picked out of a crowd of thirty newborns sight unseen while lying in recovery – her voice, felt. Heeded during its infancy, there would be awake-ness a full minute before the cry, fully cognizant and expectant of need. Cared for, and still witnessing her sleep for hours, childish and solemn, and never bored or feeling the need to flinch. Relaxed now, but the daylight hours are a different story – no need to go into that here (you’ll witness it soon enough) but for now, consider me good enough. Trusted because, before you know it, they’re all grown up, and it seems I shall be, too. Resigned.