Big A, my love, you’re such a beautiful artist. Tonight I asked about your favorite kind of art form—painting, coloring, etc., and you said writing.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I do some of that.”

We have so many great artists in our family. Seema, Sunil, Yamboo. Ada knows languages; Nani is a brilliant chef. I write. Pretty well, I’m told. Daddy will never agree, but he actually blows me out of the water. The thing about writing is even when you feel you’re good, you always know you could be better. Or maybe that’s just the way you feel about any job you love. And I love being a writer! (I hope you and Little A will both keep a handwritten journal. It’s such a beautiful way to preserve your memories.)

But anyway… you were explaining accents to me tonight. What does that mean, I asked. You hummed in the same steady note and then squeaked. That, you said, was the accent. It was brilliant and funny in the awesome way you are. Then you explained what it means in art—something about big lines and small ones? (You showed me as you brushed strokes on the page, and I must admit, I didn’t really get it.) But you did. And you draw beautifully. I don’t think I tell you that enough. I love your rendition of George Washington and Honest Abe. I love that you’re fascinated by history and that you think critically about the subject.

Tonight, in bed, you said you loved India. I assumed that’s because it’s the only foreign country you’ve visited, but no, you told me how everyone used to want to go to India because it was the land of gold and jewels. And how everyone there has beautiful dark skin. But that you don’t like the pollution and litter.

I said the water is also very dirty, so dirty that people who drink it can get terribly sick. (I thought of Flint, Michigan.) I said things aren’t very good for girls in India either. (We talked about how Nani wanted to come to America, how she wanted a better life for me, a place where women could be successful.)

“What’s success?” you asked, and then you answered your own question before I could. “Happiness?”

“Yes, my love. That exactly it.”

“Then you’re very successful, mommy.”

Indeed I am. All thanks to you, your sister, and your daddy.