In our lives, a threat looms over our heads! Illness, accidents, death… yet we don’t really have to worry about them, because we live our lives without being accountable to anyone. When we choose to start a family, a big question arises: What happens if Mom dies? What if both Mom and Dad die? Now, another life is at stake—your child’s future.
When we chose to start our family, we decided that the godmother and godfather would take care of our daughter if anything were to happen to us. I know, it’s just a Plan B. Because Plan A can only be me. Who else knows what’s best for my child? Well, that’s precisely why, when I tried to imagine the worst, I thought of them—these two people full of wisdom, composure, and love. The bonds that tie them to Mom and Dad are so strong that we couldn’t pass up people like them for our daughter.
But I hate it when I picture them becoming my child’s parents. That’s not their role—it’s ours. I take them at their word when they tell me they’ll take care of her as if she were their own daughter; I trust them completely. I just hope they’ll always welcome her with a smile and that they’ll care deeply about her health and well-being. I hope they’ll always be ready to cheer her on at dance recitals, activities, and outings. Will they know how to handle mornings—a cold coffee in hand—and evenings with bath time and bedtime routines? They’ll have to comfort her when she cries for us. But I hate them because they’ll be the ones to experience the moments of wild laughter and close-up tickling, the ones to congratulate her on her new achievements. He’ll be the one to meet her first friends and overprotect her. She’ll be the one to worry when she goes out late at night. They’ll be the ones who know her as if they’d shaped her themselves.
I sincerely hope that the only stories she’ll hear are about Mom and Godmother’s childhood together. Not that she had to take her older sister’s place. Or that Godfather made Dad drink during his initiation. Not that he had to bury his friend. I sincerely hope that you’re just a Plan B, and I continue to hope that the day you take over will never come. However, it was still necessary to make this choice, and I will never regret it—my daughter is in good hands.