A Quiet Moment ~ 005

I've Got This.

For a long time, caregiving felt mostly heavy.

Appointments.

Decisions.

Questions with no clear answers.

Exhaustion that lived just beneath the surface of every single day.

I was trying to keep everyone safe and happy.

Trying to make it through one day—

with enough left in me to begin the next.

We had gone to Fiesta that day to watch the children dance and wander among the street vendors.

By the time we were ready to leave,

my mother was tired.

Her foot hurt too much to make the walk back to the car.

It wasn't far.

But leaving her there alone felt impossible.

What if she wandered?

What if she fell?

What if something happened in the few minutes we were gone?

My son was six—

my daughter just a toddler.

I stood there trying to figure out how I was going to take care of everyone at once.

Then my son looked at me and confidently said,

“Mom, don't worry.

I've got this.”

I nodded, took my daughter's hand and started walking.

Part of me wanted to turn around.

But I didn't.

I couldn’t.

When I came back, there they were.

Together.

Exactly where I'd left them.

As we got my mother into the car,

my son quietly told me

Grandma had tried to go looking for us.

He had stopped her.

Distracted her with the baby clothes

at a nearby Fiesta vendor.

Kept her there with him

until I came back.

He had stayed beside her

and done exactly what he'd promised.

“I've got this.”

I stood there for a moment.

So proud.

My children were learning to care.

And I was learning to let them.

I didn't recognize it then.

I do now.

Somewhere in the middle

of that ordinary, fragile day,

gratitude

had quietly begun to grow.

May you notice a quiet moment of your own today.

🌿WGG