MY 5-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER CALLED ME AT WORK: “MOM LEFT WITH HER STUFF AND SAID TO WAIT FOR YOU, DADDY”

On a normal Tuesday, my phone rang with “HOME” on the caller ID. Expecting my wife, Laurel, I heard my daughter Alice’s shaky voice: “Mommy left.” Rushing home, I found Alice asleep and a note from Laurel: “I can’t live like this anymore. You’ll find out what happened in a week.” For seven days, I was consumed by worry. Then, on TV, I saw Laurel at a community center, sharing her struggles with anxiety and stress. I’d been too busy to

notice her pain. At the center’s fundraiser, we reunited. Laurel explained she felt invisible, suffocated by anxiety, and needed to help herself by helping others. I apologized for my absence, promising change. Over weeks, I adjusted my work schedule, we attended therapy, and Laurel volunteered, slowly returning home. We learned to listen and support each other’s mental health, rebuilding our family stronger, with Alice’s smile lighting our mornings.