Direct Line to Heaven

I've been sitting on "Abstract Concepts" for a few weeks. The first draft was written after Daughter told me about the conversation she had with the Professor - I was overwhelmed with emotion as I relived how Daughter first came into my life.

You will recall that when Daughter moved in, she was 11 years old. Her mother had died a few years prior, and she had spent the past few years living with her dad, and then her aunt and uncle. Her favorite movie at the time was Rugrats Go to Paris, and we watched it all summer long.



In that animated movie, baby Chuckie was looking for a new mom. Like the Diva, Chuckie's mom had died. Eventually, Chuckie finds his new mom...

And she is Asian.

I can still hear Daughter putting it all together in her head, and asking me if I was her new Mom. When I said yes, Daughter accepted it without question, we had the biggest most tearful hug, and for the next year she heartily introduced me to every random person as "My new mom!"

The second draft of Abstract Concepts occurred after Daughter asked a lot of questions about death and dieing. It was so hard to know how to answer her. How do you reassure someone that they shouldn't worry about death when she has already lost both of her parents?

I finally posted Abstract Concepts tonight. I have one more story about the Diva that pertains to death...after tonight, I'm hoping we can ease back into more light-hearted topics (it is Homecoming week here at Huge Suburban School, you know).

Last weekend, the family (Husband, me, Gopher and the Diva) traveled to the Great North for a wedding. The wedding happened to be at the church next to the cemetery where the Diva's mom is buried. We were early, as was the officiating pastor, so we all walked out to her grave, and Daughter began talking:

"Hi mom. It's me, Diva. I miss you. I'm doing well, you'd be so proud of me."

She then turned to the Gopher, as if she were handing off the telephone, and hissed, "It's your turn. Talk."

The Gopher turned red and mumbled, "I wasn't prepared to give a speech."

I giggled and told the Daughter she should just talk for him. So she proceeded.

"Brother is grown up, you'd be so proud of him. I'm a senior. We're here for a wedding. I love you!"

She paused for a minute, thinking about how to end a voicemail to Heaven. She settled with, "Amen."

My Diva inspires me. She has more reasons than anyone to be angry, depressed and despondent. Instead, she is the most optimistic, joyful and loving girl I know. I am so proud of her. What would I do without some Diva in my day?