Several weeks later, we were
preparing for a family outing.
I arrived at Nora and Tom’s house just as Ellie came running into the kitchen.
She was carrying two pink ribbons.
“Auntie Claire! Hair time!”
I laughed.
“Good morning to you too.”
She climbed onto a chair.
“Two pigtails, please.”
Nora appeared with a hairbrush.
“Be careful. Her hair was terribly tangled this morning.”
Ellie rolled her eyes.
“Mommy, you brushed it wrong!”
Nora laughed.
“Did I?”
“Yes!”
I began separating Ellie’s curls.
The first ribbon went in easily.
The second refused to stay in place.
“Too tight!” Ellie complained.
I loosened it.
“How’s that?”
She touched both sides of her head.
“One’s higher.”
Nora leaned closer.
“She’s right.”
I looked at my sister.
“Whose side are you on?”
She grinned.
“Ellie’s, obviously.”
We both laughed.
For a brief moment, everything felt wonderfully ordinary.
From the hallway, Tom called, “Are we leaving today or next
Tuesday?”
“Tuesday!” Ellie shouted mischievously.
He laughed.
“Then I’ll go back to bed.”
“No!” she squealed, jumping from the chair.
She ran toward him, asking whether we could stop for ice cream.
Nora picked up Ellie’s sweater.
I put the hairbrush away.
For a moment, I stood still, watching my sister prepare her daughter for the day.
My daughter.
The same little girl.
Loved by all of us.
Nothing about our situation was simple.
There were legal questions still unresolved, medical records still being investigated, and difficult conversations waiting ahead.
