In our little kitchen nook I’ve created a family tree. Names and dates and photos with twinkle lights draped around. A little altar of sorts.
Tonight, kidlette sat next to it, drinking her warm water before bed, and suddenly she burst into tears.
“I will be so sad when you die! Who will take care of me? I don’t want to be alone!”
Oh kiddo. It’s all so scary. There is so much and I know that you see more than I think. I know you remember more than you say.
You know there are days that my body won’t cooperate. You know that time is fleeting. You watch our garden run its cycle and you mourn the loss of your grandparents’ dog.
“I am here,” I say. “I am here and I love you and I will always love you.”
The cost of living is high. The toll of loving even higher. And my darling, I promise you, not even death is strong enough to keep me from loving you.
Hopefully one day she will look at our tree and see all the generations nurturing and nourishing the next. For now, I fear, she sees only the Names of the Dead.
I am honored to be an ancestor in waiting. I hope, however, to wait a long, long time.
Pretty Good Ugly 