Abby is in the stage where she questions EVERYTHING. I can not count how many times she says 'Why?' or 'Why Not?' in a day.
But she's also starting to ask questions about other stuff too, especially family. She's fascinated by the fact that I'm her 'mom' but I'm also someone's 'sister'. At first, it just confused her but she's starting to piece it together. It's the cutest thing to see her eyes light up when she gets it!
I can literally see the gears turning in her brain as she works through all of this complicated stuff. Here's where the conversation gets difficult though.
Abby: "Who's your Dada?"
Me: "Your Nonno is my daddy."
Abby: "Who's your Mama?"
Me: "My Mama is your Babushka."
That's where the conversation stops, usually. I can see the look on her face. The look of not quite getting it and the look of her wanting to ask another question but not sure what that question should even be.
I know it's on her mind because one day after we went out to eat, she asked me if I go out to eat with my Mama too. My answer was simply, I used to... all the time.
We talk about my Mom here and there with Abby. She knows my Mom made (and I use that term very loosely) her Blanky. There's a picture in her room of my Mom holding her. But, I have to admit, I sometimes keep the conversation short because I know what that next question is and I'm afraid.
I'm afraid to chip away at her naive innocence. I don't want her to know that there is an end because to her there are only beginnings. How could a child understand what I, after 3 years, can not type without tears in my eyes.
I know the question is there, on the tip of her tongue. I know the day will come and I will handle it as well as I can. I know that the right words for a 2 (almost 3) year old to understand will come to me.
But, as I sit here with Lilly as she lays here content with droopy eyes and milk dribbling out of the corner of her mouth, I wonder what I will tell her. There will be no pictures, no Blanky, no stories of how much my Mom loved her. The realization that I have officially stepped into a part of my life that my Mom would never be apart of, is painful.
It brings back memories of when my Mom was her sickest, and she looked at me and cried, "I'm going to miss so much!" My response to her that day, as I tried to be strong and hold it together, was to tell her that she was going to have the best seat in the house! I believe that still, and I feel her presence, but it would be nice to hug her or hear her voice.
I know the words will come the day that Lilly asks the question too. I just really wish the question didn't have to be asked.