confessions

sometimes i read terrible stories about children dying in horrible accidents or babies that perish in the time it takes your brain to slip to tomorrow’s dinner, and when other people might be appalled and shake their heads bitterly and say, where were the parents? what were they doing? how could they let this happen to their own child? how could they not think? i think about how easily these things happen. how easily i forget where i put my keys and if i locked the doors and how wild-roaming and over-confident and defiant my dogs have been lately. how could they forget the child in the hot car?/how could they leave the baby there alone?/how could they do that when they should love their baby so much they can’t help but be aware of her health every second of every day? well, you can be that aware. you can devote all of your worries and all of your thoughts and all of your breaths to that little creature you love the most, and you can still make terrible mistakes and they can still die.

sometimes i’m not sure if i should ever let myself have a child to love if i can’t even keep a dog alive for 2 years.