Sometimes it is too painful to write. Sometimes it helps and is cathartic. Sometimes I want to remember the sad and painful things my kids are saying about missing their Noni. And sometimes I want to bury my head in the sand. A few nights ago during bed time prayers we got to the part where we say ‘and bless mommy and daddy and sister and brother etc’ and little 4 year old W says ‘but I didn’t want Noni to die’ and his twin Brother says ‘and she wasn’t even old’.
Nope. No she wasn’t.
She said the best part of being a young mom to me was being a young grandma. Every though I didn’t have kids filling was 35. I am finding with the boys; death needs re-explanations over and over. And then- when I think about it for myself- I realize that I too needs the same explanations over and over. I feel like I want to about from the roof tops ‘this is NOT fair’. Because its not. Cancer is not fair. And it doesn’t make sense. And as I tell my kids ‘it’s not right’. And we don’t have to like it. So every day we try to keep a little of Noni in our hearts. And spread that love around.