‘I miss her.’

Sometimes it’s nice to forget. To be so busy that I don’t think about my daughter for a few days. It’s rare, but it’s so nice to forget that she exists. To someone who hasn’t been kicked in the head by their child (figuratively), this may seem very un-parent-like. To want to forget a child.

The other day her father via marriage (but who I would consider her actual father as he cared deeply about her, was her mentor throughout her school years and supported her when her father wasn’t interested in doing anything but the bare minimum) and I were talking about our son. She came up in the conversation. He said, “I miss her.”