Elisabeth, Rebeckah, and I passed a fountain today at the shopping center we were at. They asked for a penny to make a wish, so we walked over. I couldn’t really understand what Elisabeth said, and she couldn’t remember what it was when I asked her. Rebeckah, my 2 year old, started to say something in a low tone of voice. I leaned down to hear what she was saying. In a quiet, but very clear voice, she said “I wish we could have Eliana back.”

I had to sit down. I was fighting back the tears, and losing the battle. Elisabeth says stuff like this all the time, so I’ve gotten used to it and what she needs during those times. Rebeckah, on the other hand, rarely says anything like that unless she is copying her sister, and even then usually says it in a sing-song kind of voice. She’s not being emotional, she’s being a mimic.

This time was different. I know I’m going to be unable to describe the look on her face, so I’m not even going to try. I just know that this time she said it from her heart. My little Destructo-baby, more trouble than a whole pack of boys, and more energy than that annoying bunny, was subdued, and sad, and completely serious. It broke my heart. I had hoped that because of her age, and her behavior up to this point, that it wasn’t really affecting her too much. I think I was wrong.

Elisabeth looked up at me and asked “Mommy, do wishes always come true?” I answered her with the tears streaming down my face, “No, sweetheart, sometimes they don’t.”

We left the fountain, walked to the car, got in, and drove away. I was still doing my best to hold myself together until I got back to the safety and privacy of our house. It was difficult, though, because the whole way home I kept answering Rebeckah, silently, over and over in my head, “Me too, baby. Me too.”

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