As I look at Nora sleeping, I wonder if I will ever be able to give her the things that she needs. I wonder if I am a good mother. In the midst of fighting for custody and other things, I have come into a spell of melancholy, but this is a spell that seems more stubborn than others. I feel like I am not being the parent that I could be, the parent that I want to be and have been in the past months. I am too worried about paying the bills, feeding my child, passing school, moving, etc. to give her the things that I feel I should be giving her.

While I think all of these things, I recall hearing parents yell at their children to "shut the damn door" or "shut the hell up." These actions make no sense to me; I cannot wrap my mind around such despicable behavior. Deep down I know that the things I am doing with my life at the present are not permanent. I know that there will be better times. What I do have trouble with is wondering if I will know those better times when they finally arrive.

I left Nora's father to make me feel happier, but now I am more scared than I have been. I do not regret my actions. I do not want to continue walking down a path that leads to nothing. I've never dealt with loneliness, and I do not want my dealings with this unfamiliar friend to affect my child. I know no other way. I can not choose a different route. I know that if I am not content with myself, I can never teach her to be content with herself.

It just so happens that the road I am choosing is the most difficult road. The things that I want to give Nora are not easy things to give, especially as a single mother who is not finished with college. I will persevere; I have no other option. To give her the things that I want to give her, (open-mindedness, the freedom to make her own decisions, truth, love, comfort, intelligence, the ability to question what she is told) I have to do the things that I am doing.