Happy Crunchbar to Ava.

Ava's birthday. She is 8 remarkable years old. She is the sort of kind and gentle that will bring her both joy and sadness. She is wise beyond her years and SO funny. If you hurt someone she loves, she is a force to be reckoned with. Otherwise, she treads peacefully. People ask us if the girls ever fight because they rarely, if ever, do so in public. The answer is, of course they fight. But they love each other so completely also. Ava loves being the big sister when Phia relents and admits there might be an age difference. Ava is patient with Sophia to a point of almost being passive. Almost. She too has her moments when anger and frustration win over and Ava ditches her rational, compassionate self. It's almost as though someone has flipped a switch and then come Phia's crocodile tears. And just as quickly, the switch flipper, the switch, the circuitry, and the wall within Ava all realize Sophia is crying because of something she said, did, or eluded to and she too begins crying. Frequently, Ava's tears last long after Phia's have stopped. She can't stand that she was the cause of Phia being sad or hurt. As a little, tiny girl back in Madison she would come crying to me that the other kids were stepping on ants. Last week she cried about a diseased tree we had to have taken down. A few hours later she announced she was going to be a green developer when she grew up. She would build the homes and buildings people needed, but she would build them around the trees. No trees would be removed or hurt, no animals left homeless. This is my baby girl, my monkey. When I found out I was pregnant, I left my office to meet Jeff at our [too quiet without kids] home. I walked into our kitchen and he was standing there, exhausted and elated. It had been a long, painful journey. I walked into his arms and cried in a way that cleansed my soul. All of the hurt and anger washed away and right then I was ready to move on. I was ready to grow a baby and to love it completely. And I loved every amazing miraculous moment of this, my first, pregnancy. And though it may seem redundant to you, it is imperative to me that I keep alive the memory of Ava's brother. "Ava's brother" is a phrase she isn't familiar with just yet. At eight years old, I fear she already feels too much. Every year, we talk about if this is the year we tell her. And every year we get our yes's and our no's for all the same reasons. She knows part of her is missing, I believe that in my heart. When she was much younger she talked about the little boy who played with her when, in my eyes, she was sitting alone. I want her to find out when she can make as much sense of it as any of the rest of us, which to be honest on a lot of days isn't much at all. I don't think I'll ever understand. I don't think I'll ever be okay with it. I will continue to trust that God has a plan though. He told me my baby was there when everyone else said there was only one. I left the ultrasound calm and at peace. I knew. We went back two weeks later and there were my babies, side by side, little hearts flashing like beacons of hope and joy and comfort just below my heart. He let us be together. And then when we had shared what was to be shared and we three existed together as we were meant to, God brought him home. And on May 29th when it hurts and I get angry, because I do every year, I look at Ava and know that I'm witnessing a direct line to Heaven. This eight year old beauty of mine is more than I had ever imagined a child could be. Her sister two and a half years in tow proving that to me also; I'm a mourning Mama who is blessed in spades. Happy birthday to my Ava Lili, the baby girl that gave me back hope and joy and comfort IN my heart.