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It was something small that put me into Brandon’s mindset.

This little ornament that Brandon made for me at school, gave to me in a paper bag he had decorated like a snowman.

It said, “to: mom; from: Brandon” on it. At Steve’s house, I saw another ornament, almost identical, and I realized, one day at school, Brandon told his teacher that he has two houses, two Christmas trees.

I thought about him at that table in the Kindergarten room, gluing buttons onto this craft stick, making two ornaments when the kids around him might have each made just one.  He is splitting his love, trying so hard to make it even for us, make us both feel important. I wouldn’t wish that dividing on anyone, but if any five-year-old can gracefully manage such a feat, it’s Brandon.

This little boy has the emotional intelligence of an adult, the kindness and gentleness of a good therapist. He manages what I never could. He has my best traits without my worst.

He just put his arms around me, kissed my cheek.