A good-enough parent

Margie’s elder son has brought his adult daughter to Portland for medical care, and while she recuperates in a rented apartment nearby, he’s sleeping on a blow-up bed in Margie’s apartment. This has thrown Margie’s schedule off-kilter. She’s not getting as much sleep as usual, and her memory is fragmented, though her reasoning is still solid.

Margie: Why is Andy here?

I explain. 

Margie: Oh, that’s good. I’m sure he feels he’s being a good father, and that’s very nourishing. What is his child’s name? Do I know her?

I say it’s your granddaughter, and I name her.

Margie: Oh of course, I remember now. How old a child is she, and why is she here?

I say she’s an adult, and she needs some medical attention, and Andy knows a physician here who is an expert in the field. 

Margie: Oh sure, Andy is a medical researcher, so I’m sure he knows who the good doctors are. Is Andy married to this child’s mother?

I name Andy’s wife.

Margie: Oh of course I remember her. Andy’s been married to her forever. I think he must really love her. But why is Andy here?

While we were having coffee, the man who cleans Margie’s apartment once a month saw us and stopped to ask about Andy’s daughter. When he left, Margie asked, “Who is that nice man and why does he think Andy has a daughter?”

I explain. 

Margie: I’m sure it’s good for Andy to feel he’s being a good father. We all need reassurance. We never think we’re a good-enough parent, do we?