She wrapped her arms around my waist. Tears pooled in her eyes.
“Mommy, why do you work?”
This was not the first time she has asked me that question. Not the first time she clung to me as I headed out the door to my part-time job.
My summer schedule of mostly afternoon and evening hours has been hard for her. For the first time, she does not have school to distract her from the fact I am not home. She sees that I’m not there.
She FEELS my absence. Continue reading “‘Mommy, why do you work?””