Junkyard Cradle

Short Story by Heidi Hakimi-Hood + Interview

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“Charla Jim, what have you been doing to that baby?” I can hear my grandmother ask this question because she would ask it a million times by the time she passed away when I was 26 years old. Grandma loved me, and she wanted to make sure my mom did, too. My mom loved me, but she didn’t have the parenting experience that my grandma had. After all, Grandma had three separate live births in a 29-month time span back in the 1940s. My mom, well, my mom just had me. How could my grandma’s only baby girl know the first thing about taking care of her own child? Grandma would always say, “I don’t know how you two survive.” To which my mom would reply, “Mother, we do just fine on our own.” Oh, I know we managed, but we couldn’t really function on our own. We needed experienced help. Mom never wanted to burden anyone with our money problems and my dad’s deportation fears, but sometimes we needed a helping hand. I’m glad others around us noticed.