How Green Becomes Wood

Once on the train, Daizi took a breath and then found an empty seat, taking a moment to just feel the train move before taking out her bone-conducting headphones and putting on music. Leaving was easier than she had expected, and she was relieved about that... and it was nice her family had agreed to see her off. When the train pulled into the station, she was relieved at how she was able to make it onto the sidewalk outside without incident, and soon enough she was at work again.

The first hour or so was really just spent catching up with all of her coworkers, and she kept reminding them she had been working online, every day, just remotely. Most of them she had spoken with last week, but all of them told her communicating through email, Teams, and over video calls was not the same thing as being in person. One of them said the baked-in scent of incense in her office was fully gone by now, so it was imperative she come back.

With how warm the welcome was, Daizi started the day feeling good, but as it went on, she found herself missing Ivy and Dark more and more. As stressful as it could sometimes be balancing working from home and being a mother to a toddler, it had been a really special time she was glad to have experienced. Just before lunch, she finally broke and called home. Ivy's excitement and confusion at seeing her Mama on the box she only saw the people who her parents said were her family tore at Daizi's heart a little bit, even though she and Dark tried to explain she was just at work and would be home soon. Of course, they explained "soon" in units of time an eighteen month old could understand. During the call, Dark explained Ivy had started the day okay, like her mother, but then grew progressively stressful and restless when she realized her Mama wasn't coming around at the times she usually did. They stayed on the call until it seemed like Ivy was getting upset, at which point Daizi told Ivy how much she loved her, reminded her when she would be home, and then after a brief, empathetic goodbye with her husband, they ended the call.

Setting her phone down, Daizi took off her sunglasses, ran her hands over her face, and felt like she was going to cry. It would be okay, she knew everything would be okay. Unlike Dark, she didn't for a moment have the thought that this job wasn't worth this, but it still wasn't easy. She was glad to have called home, but also felt like, maybe, it made things harder that she had. Before she even had the chance to begin crying, though, her boss knocked on her door to ask if she was ready, so she had no choice but to take a breath, tuck her hair back, and put on a smile and went out to lunch.

And it was good, it was really good. Being around adults who really understood her work was great, it had been too long. And back at the office, she was able to get back to what she had been working on while at home, only now she could more easily discuss it with her coworkers, so it was really, really good to be back at the Museum. She took a brief walk through her favourite areas, and it was wonderful. And it was quiet. And when she heard a visitor's kid laugh again her heart squeezed because she just wanted to hug her baby.

Somehow, the day seemed to go by in an instant while feeling like it also took a thousand years, and soon enough, she was back on the train, her cane folded up in her lap, resting her head against the window.
 
An old woman, perhaps seventy or more years of age, hobbled onto the train and made her way down to the aisle. She chose the seat next to Daizi and carefully lowered herself down. "Oh, my. These old bones don't move like they used to," she sighed. "At least they make chairs softer now than they did back when I was young like you!" She chuckled and gripped her walking cane before her.
 
Daizi smiled politely in her direction. She almost decided to leave it at that, but decided to be polite enough to say, "I'm just glad there are available seats. Sometimes I need to stand for half the trip home."
 
"That is unfortunate. That is one positive aspect of getting old: I almost always get a seat." The old woman leaned over conspiratorially, "And I admit to taking full advantage of it!" she nearly cackled gleefully, keeping her voice low. Daizi would not be able to see the twinkle in her eye, but she could probably hear it.
 
Chuckling a little bit with how hard the woman laughed, Daizi tucked her hair back and said, "I think people can't figure out if they're meant to give a seat up for me or not. It was one of the few perks of pregnancy."
 
Admittedly, Daizi did not fully understand this question, but she answered as best as she could, "My daughter is eighteen months old. So it feels recent and like it was a lifetime ago. I guess it was, for her."
 
"Ah, and now you are past the age of full, accepted dependence on you and are edging into the territory where they are trying to do everything for themselves," the woman said with a smile. "Toddler cuddles are truly the most endearing thing, are they not?"
 
"She is definitely learning independence," Daizi chuckled, feeling a deep, deep urge to be home always so she could hug her little girl, "My husband is taking advantage of it by trying to teach her to clean up after herself. So far, she's been making messes bigger, but tries. And the other day, she stuffed so many worms into her raincoat pocket," She laughed, fiddling with her wedding ring, "but she loves bedtime, just because she still loves being held."
 
"Oh, that is precious time," the woman sighed happily. "It hurts so much when they eventually decide snuggle time is over, but a few will never feel that way, and most eventually realize they want cuddle time back." She smiled at Daizi. "You cannot wait to get back home, can you?"
 
"I think I have a lot of that time yet, but I'm already missing it," Daizi admitted, and then after a moment raised her head and told this stranger, "I had been working from home since my maternity leave ended. Today was my first day back at my office, it's the longest I've ever been apart from her."
 
The woman made a sympathetic noise. "Poor Mama. Your heart must be breaking." She reached over and placed a hand on Daizi's forearm very lightly. "You must love your job very much and be proud of what you do."
 
"I've missed her all day," Daizi confessed, wrapping the ends of her hair around her fingers, "I do love my work. When my husband went back after his paternity leave, he couldn't cope, and I think that I will be able to, but it's still... She's like no one else I've known."
 
"Of course she is not," the old woman agreed firmly. "She is the most unique, precious, and delightful person you have ever met or will ever meet, and you will never love anything or anyone quite like how you love her." She paused for a moment before saying, "I am sure you must get a lot of unsolicited advice from well-meaning but nosey people, and I remember how frustrating it could be, but I hope you will permit me to say just this one thing and tolerate me for the sake of my advanced years. It will get easier, and I am sure you know it will get easier, and there will be days when you will not miss your daughter quite so strongly while at work. Then there will be days when it will be truly awful and you will feel terrible. You will question yourself, your choices, and maybe your abilities, but please remember this and hold it close: questioning yourself is the absolute best indicator that you are a good mother. It shows that you care most of all what is best for your little one. There will still be difficult days, but never let anyone, including yourself, tell you that you are not a good mother. Okay, my sweet child? There. Now this old lady is done meddling in your affairs. I shall not say another word about it!"
 
Daizi listened, growing quieter as she attended to whar this stranger was telling her. Then she said, "I hope that's true. I guess I've been told similar things before... but it's hard not to doubt... My family is a bit unusual..." She began to say something else but then shook her head, "Nevermind. Thank you."
 
"You are very welcome, child. Doubt is a sneaky thing that loves to steal our joy, but you mustn't let it." She squeezed Daizi's arm gently as the train slowed for a stop before Daizi's. "Here's my stop." She rose and started to toddler off.
"May the wisdom of the Crone guide your path, as you step into the fullness of your power as a Mother." She was gone in the crowd moving on and off the train in an instant.
 
It surprised Daizi by how grateful she was to hear such simple advice. It wasn't too different from the kinds of advice her aunts or Sally had given her but, somehow, it coming from a stranger made it feel different. Maybe it was just because it was coming from someone who had no reason to care and no incentive to lie.

Then this stranger spoke of The Crone. It made Daizi sit up a little straighter, and she tried over the sounds of the train and all its passengers to hear more deeply into this woman than she had before. She must really have understood, then, Daizi thought.

"Thank you," Daizi repeated, but the stranger was already gone.
 
The twins were already home, as expected, and Alec was helping Dark with Ivy, taking a turn at keeping her distracted and entertained. He didn't want Ivy to meet Daizi with a tearstained face on her first day out at work because he didn't want Daizi to feel guilty. There would likely be plenty of times that Daizi would come home to a crying baby, but not the first day!

Xander was working in the kitchen, making a couple of treats for the coming week. A couple of them just happened to be among Daizi's favorites.
 
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