
Their favourite fork
When they moved out, and I eventually learned where to, I made sure my ADHD and possibly autistic 15yo had their Favourite Fork at their father's. He had not bothered making sure they had it.
I didn't then know I might not have them stay with me again. It was still "I want to stay with dad for now until I know how I want to split my time" and not yet "If you don't give dad full legal parental rights and full custody, I don't want any contact"
Sometimes, the brain goblins are very strong, and the doubt settles in "Was it something I did?" "Maybe I really am the problem?"
I look then, to this framed fork, identical to the one I brought to them, and I am reminded a person, who in their darkest hour, when their life has been ripped out from under them, when their heart is in a million pieces, makes sure the child has their Favorite Fork, is not the problem, the abuser, the narcissist.
One day, we'll take it down, and they'll use it. Here.
With me.