Today my heart aches.
Not for me…not for my family.
But for someone else’s family.
Someone who doesn’t have the luxury like I do, of having her little girl under the same roof.
Not in her arms nor at arm’s length, arguing over what she wants for breakfast or which channel she doesn’t want to watch on the TV…she’s not even ‘just around the corner’ at a play date or at school for the day.
I say luxury but for the majority of us born in the western world, luxury is not a word we would normally associate with having a child, our own child living with us in our own home.
Caring for them as only a parent knows how, making sure there’s enough oil to keep the wheels spinning on the family home, day in, day out. It’s largely something we take for granted and all too often catch ourselves complaining about, passionately.
For some people, like my friend who’s also a Domestic Helper, Lara*, it’s simply not an option to have her little girl living with her, permanently. Continue reading
