She Sees Mountains and Rivers, Not the Past

After my son was born, I was diagnosed with depression. Every single day, Ada was on guard against me killing myself. The piano at home gathered dust. A soundproof door was fitted onto the nursery. The walls were covered with notes meant to encourage me. No matter how hard the baby cried, Ada always went to me first, to the man falling apart. "Don't be afraid. I'll stay by your side, and you'll get better, little by little." Until my son's first birthday party drew near, and Ada was busy off tasting menu options.