More because's than why's

Today a friend asked me (in so many words) why I care about this attachment stuff so much. My first thought: I don't know. Why am I putting so much fight into this? Why do I spend hours thinking, talking, writing about this day after day? On the drive home and while reading bedtime stories about bunnies and lakes, my mind kept returning to this question (yes, I'm a woman, I can multi-task). For now, these are my answers. Out of all the things in the world that there are to care about, here's why I'm boxing in this corner:

Because this is my story. And I believe we are all made up of our stories.

Because I'm hoping that I'm not the only one out there with this story.

Because I'm hoping that it might help other mothers and fathers struggling to make up their minds about who they are now that everything is different.

Because it would have given me faith and courage, in the beginning, to read about someone else doing what I believed I should do and wasn't sure I could.

Because some days I still don't think I'm going to make it.

Because I want to remember.

Because sometimes there is no short answer to a question.

Because the question I am constantly answering all day long from everyone I know is why am I doing it this way.

Because this matters.

Because in some tiny and hard to explain way, this is Palestine for me all over again and I won't be ruled out.