I often ask my four-year old muse to give me a topic to write about. As you know, she is a treasure chest of little golden writing nuggets. What she gave me was so much more than a topic. She managed to give her momma’s heart a lift.
Maddie told me to write about love. Hmmm…I’ve already written about that. So I ask her what I should say about love. She looked stumped. (I hope in a school somewhere, someday, someone asks her what I said next)
“Tell me more Maddie.”
She still was stumped and said, “I don’t know mommy. You’re the writer here.”
Hmmph. I ask, “Well, fill in this sentence for me then: Love is…”
“Love is the stars mommy.”
Seriously? This little wonder who has not a clue of the recent topics flowing from my brain to the keyboard hits on a line I would have, could have, should have included in those pieces? The look on my face must have prompted her because she went on to say that the stars are sparkly and love is sparkly and that the stars are shiny and love is shiny and that we love the stars and everyone loves love.
And then… “We love Papa, and Opa, and Uncle Steve and they are in the stars. So the stars are love.”
This wisdom. This outlook on life. This love and loss that she has so clearly accepted in the way only a child can do, without the bitterness and anger that floats into adulthood. She is sad and she misses them certainly, but in the next breath she is smiling and saying that we see the stars so we can see them. In the next moment she is going to the photo albums to run her fingers over their smiling faces.
I’m in awe. Life lessons from a four-year old thrust into this world of accepting loss. This pint-sized dynamo has so much to teach me. I turn to ask her what else she’d like to say about love and I find her back with her furry friends reenacting the most recent SpongeBob episode.
I have so much to learn.