I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; two-thousand and six has been one of the hardest I’ve ever had. I was practically bedridden for months, not able to be with friends, go to school, or get out and have a real life. The fact that I haven’t had some very important people involved in this part of my life has been devastating. My father had to make a huge change and work the weekdays 200 miles away, and my best friend disappeared from my life.

I’ve found salvation only from my mom and two girls under the age of five. My mom has always been my rock, my comforter, and my best friend, and this year has been no different. But I found a new best friend in a preschooler named Ava. I’ve mentioned Ava before, and her little sister Mazzi, because they play important roles in my life. This year, Ava, Mazzi, their mother Khara, and their father Robby all moved into a three bedroom house with my brother, located only 2.2 miles from my house. I’ve babysitted them, played with them, swam, watched them grow, learn, and develop individual personalities. They moved here in April, and the past four months have been outstanding, even when everything else was falling apart, seeing those girls made me forget. Even when I was in pain, I wanted to see them, I played with them through the pain. I played play doh with ava, drew and painted, went swimming, and fell in love with her. With Mazzi I cradled, bounced, changed diapers, played peekaboo, made nonsense noises, and fell in love.

I’ve learned so much from two small souls with a lot of love to give. I’ve found my true calling, and I’ve had fun doing it. But now things are changing. Mazzi and Ava’s mom and dad are splitting up. And the girls are going to live in Clarksville, and I probably won’t see them more than twice a month, while I’m used to seeing them two or three times a week. I feel like I’ve lost a part of my heart, a part of my family.

I don’t want to lose them.