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This morning, a voice from the backseat:

“Mommy.”

“Yes.”

“I look like an angel.”

Today I picked up my son from preschool. One of his teachers, a woman I admire for her patience, wisdom, and strength of character, mentioned that he had struck a friend and another teacher. She was very surprised (as was I), because he’s usually a pretty level-headed little person.

I mentioned to this woman, who is always especially kind to my son and to me, that his father had moved out of our house, and that we’d had some changes, especially in the last few weeks. I watched as her face changed. I was suddenly not the good mother who had walked in the door. I could see my stock drop. And while it wasn’t pleasant, I expected that reaction from some people (though admittedly, not from this lady). What I was not prepared for was the look she then cast upon my son–a mixture of pity, sadness, and regret–as if this wonderful little boy was somehow doomed due to the actions of his mother.

I’ve struggled with the changes and decisions of the past year, and I know in my heart the right ones have been made. But I didn’t expect that simple reaction from someone to whom I’m not even really close to knock the breath out of me the way that it did.

So, I’ve spent the better part of my evening pondering the effects of those few seconds, and feeling terribly alone.

Time will pass, kids are incredibly resilient, and when my three-year-old has more words than grunts, he will certainly find better ways to express himself. However, that exchange will remained tattooed in my memory for a long time.