My daughter loves to create the tiniest little pieces of art. The littler the better. In kindergarten, she and her friends would take pieces of paper smaller than their pinkies and cover them itty bitty flowers, hearts, sparkles, and peace signs. In first grade, they started adding little words of friendship, and gave them to each other as gifts.
My daughter does not know anything about my struggles through my divorce. Or how I’ve faltered again this week, convinced I could not go on with it any longer. Ready to give up again.
She also doesn’t know anything about my new job search – after I’ve stayed at home for nearly a decade. How strange it was to put on work clothing and walk into offices and say hello to receptionists and tell them that I’m there for the interview.
So this lovely little piece of art that she made me last night is just a happy message for her mom. A sweet little gift.
But to me, it’s everything.