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I am the keeper.

I am the keeper of schedules. Of practices, games, and lessons. Of projects, parties, and dinners. Of appointments and homework assignments. 

I am the keeper of information. Who needs food 5 minutes before a meltdown occurs and who needs space when he gets angry. Whether there are clean clothes, whether bills are paid, and whether we are out of milk. 

I am the keeper of solutions. Of bandaids and sewing kits and snacks in my purse. But also of emotional balms and metaphorical security blankets. 

I am the keeper of preferences. Of likes and dislikes. Of nightly rituals and food aversions. 

I am the keeper of reminders. To be kind, to pick up their trash, to do their dishes, to do their homework, to hold open doors and write thank you notes.

I am the keeper of rituals and memories. Of pumpkin patches and Easter egg hunts. I am the taker of pictures, the collector of special ornaments, and the writer of letters. 

I am the keeper of emotional security. The repository of comfort, the navigator of bad moods, the holder of secrets and the soother of fears. 

I am the keeper of the peace. The mediator of fights, the arbiter of disputes, the facilitator of language, the handler of differing personalities.

I am the keeper of worry. Theirs and my own. 

I am the keeper of the good and the bad, the big and the small, the beautiful and the hard. 

Most of the time, the weight of these things I keep resembles the upper elements on the periodic table – lighter than air, buoying me with a sense of purpose.

But sometimes the weight of the things I keep pulls me down below the surface until I am kicking and struggling to break the surface and gasp for breath.

Because these things I keep are constantly flickering in the back of my brain, waiting to be forgotten. They scatter my thoughts and keep me awake long past my bedtime.

Because all these things I keep are invisible, intangible. They go unnoticed and unacknowledged until they are missed. They are not graded or peer reviewed or ruled on by a court. And sometimes they are taken for granted. 

To all of you who are keepers, I see you. 

I know the weight of the things you keep. 

I know the invisible work you do, which doesn’t come with a pay check or sick leave, is what makes the world go round. 

And I salute you.

This article originally appeared on Lucky Orange Pants

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Cameron Reeves Poynter

Cameron Reeves Poynter is a reformed lawyer, writer, rabid sports fan, and mother of two. She writes about parenthood, loss, and loving hard on her blog Lucky Orange Pants. Her work has also been published on The Huffington Post, Scary Mommy, Babble, The TODAY show, The Elephant Journal, YourTango, and The Mighty. 

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