Chapter 26 - LILY’S DAUGHTER
Lily became a mother at thirty-two.
Her daughter’s name was Emma.
At five, Emma refused dinner because the chicken looked “weird.”
Lily stared at the plate.
I watched her face.
She noticed.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“Do not psychoanalyze dinner.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Emma pushed the plate away.
“I want cereal.”
Lily said:
“You can have yogurt and fruit. I’m not making cereal after I cooked.”
Emma considered.
“Yogurt.”
Normal boundary.
No humiliation.
No branch.
No burnt substitute.
No adult laughing.
Later Lily told me:
“I almost panicked when she said the food looked bad.”
“What stopped you?”
“Remembering that dinner can just be dinner.”
Yes.
That was the work.
Emma grew up knowing Helen only through stories.
Not horror stories.
Family history.
“Great-Grandma Helen was mean?”
“Sometimes.”
“Was she nice?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did she really burn your steak?”
“Yes.”
“On purpose?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because adults made a stupid hierarchy.”
Emma looked confused.
May you like
Good.
Children should not naturally understand hierarchy-based cruelty.
