After I kissed my daughter goodnight, I sat on the couch to think.
I reflected upon the things I wish I could undo.
The opportunities I had to be more patient.
The times I rushed to judgment instead of rushing to understand.
The ways I could have been a better mom.
As my thoughts continued to wander, the guilt engulfed me.
I felt as though I was in a fog, unable to see.
As the waves of regret washed over me, I closed my eyes.
I took a deep breath and searched deep within my heart.
I heard my daughter’s belly laugh when I told her a joke.
I recalled how she snuggled closer to me as I read her a bedtime story.
I felt her hand finding its way into mine as we walked together.
I imagined her squeal of delight as we played a game.
I saw the look on her face when I kissed her forehead.
And as quickly as it came, the fog cleared.
I was finally able to see what was right in front of me.
I will never do everything correctly, and that’s okay.
My daughter doesn’t need a perfect mom.
My daughter needs me.