The other day I was driving the car with just Betty on board. Just mama and her girlie. We have so much fun in the car. We play this game where we try to crack each other up by making silly faces at each other via my rearview mirror. We were also singing along to Christmas songs and holding hands during stoplights. I love that crazy nutball.
As we crossed Front Street, she said, “Mom? You know how in ‘Winnie the Pooh’, at the end, he says, ‘If you live to be 100, I hope to live to be 100 minus one day, so I never have to live without you’?”*
And I said, “Yes?”
She said, “That’s what I want to happen with me and you.”
I am getting used to my kids saying things that, considering my situation, hurl a dagger through my guts. Lately, though, it’s getting a little easier to hear some of that stuff because I have once again decided I am definitely going to live for MANY YEARS. I have to admit, I waffled back and forth on the feasibility of this ideal outcome for a few months after my recurrence. But now I am back to feeling like I am going to conquer this thing. Assuming I have any say in the matter. And, you know, I really think I do.