I Cut My Child’s Apple into Slices and Thought About How Much Love Still Looks Like Prevention

Dear Delyara, No choking. No bruising in the lunchbox. No “I couldn’t eat it because…” That’s how the thought process goes now. Not dramatic nurture. Practical foresight. I stood there cutting the apple and suddenly felt emotional about the whole thing. How many forms of care are really just small acts of prevention. A cut apple. A spare jumper. A reminder. A filled bottle. A checked bag. A second look at a child’s face before they say “fine” too quickly. I think a lot of maternal love is fear turned gentle. Fear of avoidable discomfort. Fear of missing something. Fear of the child meeting a hard world without enough softness packed into their day beforehand. The apple slices looked harmless. To me, they felt full of meaning.