Wife of one handsome hunk, homeschooling mom of three boys, foster mom, daughter of God. Over the past 7 years, we've learned to love our foster children deeply, yet hold them loosely. I share with you my heart in these brief chronicles of our family life.
This morning Josiah was asking me what things I remember. I told him I remember when he was a baby playing with Poa-Poa (my mom). He said he remembers playing with Gung-Gung (my dad). I highly doubt he remembers playing with my dad, though. He was only 14-months-old when my dad died.
J: I wish I could see Gung-Gung.
M: Me, too.
J: Can he call from heaven?
M: No, he can't... (tears streaming down immediately)
J: Where did he die? M: At his house.
M: He was sleeping and stopped breathing.
J: Why did he die? M: He was sick and had cancer.
J: What's cancer? M: A sickness that kills your body.
J: I've never had cancer because I didn't die. Does everyone with cancer die? M: No, not everyone...
My dad would have enjoyed his grandchildren so much! How I wish he could play with them now...