letters to aveline: mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird

dear aveline,

we didn’t sleep so well last night, you and i. (and daddy makes three). you tossed and turned until midnight, and then finally fell asleep at 12:30. you were up again at 2 and didn’t fall asleep until 3. up again at 5. i was so tired i could hardly see straight, but somehow just your tiny little presence, restless in my arms, filled me with happy joy.

you wouldn’t go back to sleep, so around 6:30 i started singing softly to you, hush little baby, don’t say a word / mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird…

and you smiled at me. you looked up through your little tears and red-rimmed eyes and smiled at me. …and if that mockingbird don’t sing / mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring…

my heart melted, and just kept on melting …and if that diamond ring turns brass…

your eyes slowly fluttered closed, then opened again to look at me …mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass…

i heard soft clinking sounds coming from the kitchen, and smelled coffee in the air. …and if that looking glass gets broke…

you sighed, a deep, satisfied sigh, and drifted into a peaceful sleep as the first rays of dawn peeked through the windows and cast soft shadows over your sleeping body. i could feel my eyelids getting heavier and heavier. your daddy walked into the room, set a fresh cup of coffee down on the bedside table, kissed my forehead, and said, you can drink it later.

and then we slept, baby. you and i. after that restless night, we slept.

so hush little baby / don’t you cry / daddy loves you / and so do i

love, your mama