Day 1: My Compassionate Little Girl

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Today I received some difficult news; my father, who has been battling cancer for a looooong time, has had a not-altogether-unexpected setback.  Still, faced once again with the concept of losing my dad, I was visibly upset.  M, of course, noticed immediately, and asked me, “What’s wrong, mommy?  Why are you sad?”  I, of course, tried to play it off; who really wants to burden the mind of a joyous little 4-year-old with thoughts of pain and loss?  She wouldn’t let it go, however, when I just told her, “I’m fine, baby.”  She told me, “But mommy, you look like you’re sad.”  So, I figured I better fess up and, after a bit of thought, told her simply, “Pop-Pop is sick.  I’m sad because Pop-Pop is sick.”  You could see the light in her eyes as she realized that this is obviously a surmountable problem.  The first step, she surmised, would be to pick Pop-Pop some pink flowers from the garden after nap time, and she told me as much.  Then she quickly set to work finding him a baby doll to make him feel better and grabbing an old coloring book and pencil to write him a story.  Because listening to stories always makes one feel better, right?  This is a picture of her writing a story, one that we’ll finish after nap time and that will probably contain unicorns, knights and/or princesses, and all the other things that stir her little (actually, it’s quite big) imagination.  And, once I relate it all to Pop-Pop, maybe send him a few pressed flowers, a baby doll, and the story she wrote, I daresay it probably will make him feel better.  I know it did wonders for me.

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