13 April 2021

Dear Laca,

On the subject of fears, the stain on my soul...

When I was pregnant with you, I kept envisioning this dark, festering stain on my soul. The stain is every rotten decision I’ve made. Every grotesque thought I’ve allowed.

And I just kept picturing you growing inside me, knowing it exists.

I kept picturing that stain marking you somehow. I was so scared you would have the most rotten parts of me.

But you were born, and I know it never touched you. You’re too new. Too genuine.

Someday you might have your own stain, sure. I only hope I’ll never handicap you with my shortcomings.

❤ your mother