Your kids won’t see the list in your head

 Your kids won’t see the list in your head.

The invisible ink of it.
The way it rewrites itself while you’re driving.
While you’re cooking.
While you’re trying to fall asleep.

They won’t see the mental tabs you keep open.
The birthdays remembered.
The fears anticipated.
The storms tracked before they ever hit.

They will just remember that
life felt steady.

Like the ground didn’t move much.
Like someone had already thought ahead.

They won’t know how many times you steadied it with your own hands.

They’ll just grow up thinking
home was solid.

It was never an accident.

It was you.