Dear Ava

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

Since I graduated four years ago and took over some of Dad’s investments in the Nashville area, I’ve worked my way up from a desk job to executive vice president, and it has little to do with impressing my father. It’s about me and Ava.

Oh my gosh it's been 10 years since Camden Prep. They're 28 now

Ava sits on the big bed, a crying baby on each leg. Leland Knox and Persephone Tulip are officially two years old this weekend. My eyes search her. She looks okay, maybe a little scattered, and her hair needs brushing, but hey, when you’ve got two toddlers—

Stop im crying

Persephone wiggles her way down from Tyler and throws a look around at Leland, still content in Dane’s arms. “Leeeeeeee, eat! No nap!” she wails out in a demanding voice, and then he’s straining to get to her—as a good brother should—and does his duck walk in his diaper to where she’s waiting at the door. He hangs on to her shirt, muttering, then dashes ahead, laughing as she tries to catch him. “P, P, P, I win!” “No!” she cries and runs faster, and dang, they can’t even really run that fast, but we all watch, entranced. It’s such a simple thing, really, seeing them and thinking how lucky I am, and the emotion wraps around me, amazement that I hold happiness in my hands, the knowledge that family is everything. Everyone files into the kitchen, and I turn to Ava, finding her eyes as misty as mine. She jumps at me and I clutch her close. It’s the little things. God, the little things. I kiss her long and slow, my tongue tangling with hers, and she melts into me. Our lines got a little blurry along the way, through broken hearts and time lost, but in the end, we made a full, complete, beautiful circle.

Hey siri, queue crying songs