And for all those years, we never talked about the disaster at the recital or my terrible accusations afterward at the piano bench. All that remained unchecked, like a betrayal that was now unbreakable. So I never found a way to ask her why she had hoped something so large that failure was inevitable. And even worse, I never asked her what frightened me the most: Why had she given up hope?
I wish there were two of me and 48-hour days so I could get everything done. But for me, I have to not try and think that everything has to be 100% perfect all the time and leave room for error. As long as my kids feel loved and a priority, everything really is secondary.