“I used to bathe you in that sink”, in my head I turn this phrase over, and I’m saying it to my teenage daughter. She looks at me as if to say “I didn’t ask, and I don’t care”, exasperation, anger and confusion in one. This hasn’t happened yet and probably never will. But I understand the person who says this, now.
You used to be this tiny, helpless thing. You needed us to do everything for you, and it just so happens that we would do anything for you. You were ours, we made you. Everything you were was us. And there you are now, my future daughter, the sum of your years, a product of everything else. Sure, we are in there, strongly, but we are voices among many.
But it wasn’t always like that. Once we were everything to you. I used to bathe you in the sink.
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