Member-only story
The Weight We Carry
Parenthood’s quiet shadows
It was midnight and pouring heavily when Elena Richardson opened her door. Standing there, drenched and crying in the rain, was Pearl. Despite the ongoing feud between Elena and Mia, Pearl’s mother, she brought her in, changed her clothes, and prepared a bedroom for her. As Elena tucked Pearl into bed, a silhouette appeared at the doorway. Isabel stood there, peering quietly. Her blue eyes grew misty and melancholic, but before any tears could fall, she disappeared into the shadows.
Isabel scurried into her room and sobbed, curling atop her bed, arms wrapped around her knees. She wished her mother would be to her what she was to Pearl — gentle, nurturing, and kind. Elena’s care for Pearl sparked a bitter jealousy, even though Isabel loved and cared for Pearl herself.
By her bedside, Isabel noticed something — a ring left by Pearl’s mom, Mia, earlier that day. She slipped it on and suddenly smiled, her mood shifting. The ring was a gift from Mia, whose warmth and attentiveness were slowly becoming her solace — a mother figure her own mother, Elena, could never seem to be.
As the smile lit her face, I couldn’t help but remember my own childhood. Memories long buried resurfaced, like whispers from a past I had tried to forget. The longing I felt back then was so deep, so endless, it felt like I could dig for a…
