Enough

I am not the type of person who believes everything happens for a reason, or that things always work out for the best. Suffering is real, and I refuse to believe that there is a purpose for the extreme suffering some people endure.

But I do believe that things work out neatly sometimes. Maybe not as good as you’d hoped, but well enough. And I believe in recognizing and acknowledging those moments when they come to pass.

  • The house next door to my parents that became available for rent for the first time in several years the month after my first child was born.
  • The job that allows telecommuting, which I had been trying to obtain for years, that became available the month after I returned to work from maternity leave.
  • The freelancing gigs I pieced together to keep us afloat until my job became full time and R found work.
  • The job R found with hours that complement mine, so we can still be their main caretakers.
  • The caterpillar that comes back to life just when you and your daughter most need an emotional win.
  • The kind words and gifts from family and friends, too numerous to list, that came in just when I needed them most.

It is not all sunshine and roses. Bad days happen. Not everyone is supportive. At times, I feel it is all falling apart in my hands. Other times, I feel like I am on a treadmill — no matter how long I walk, I get nowhere.

But we have enough. Thanks in no small part to these little happy coincidences.

Enough is fine with me.

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