Dear Ava,
Tonight your brother had a fever, and I was talking to your dad about the situation in front of you. Though we didn’t realize it at the time, this made you feel a little jealous and sad. When I came into your room to chat beneath the stars on your ceiling, you first told me your stomach hurt. Then you asked me what the doctor would do if YOU had a fever over 100. Finally, you announced, in a very small and bitter voice, that I only cared about your brother and his fever and not about you.
When I told you that I loved you both equally–and very much–you asked me how I could love you both at the same time. Instead of answering your question, I asked you another. I said, “Well, you love Dad, and me, and Emmett all at the same time. How can you do that?” You thought for a moment, and then you said, “They’re invisible.” I asked, “What’s invisible?” You said, “The ropes. I have ropes from my heart that connect it to other hearts. I have one for Emmett, one for Dad, and one for you.”
Oh, my little one. Oh, my sweet baby. No matter where you go in life, this rope of mine will hold tight.
I love you,
Mama