I took Maddy to a Mommy / daughter class last night.  it is about time she learned about ovaries, I guess.  She is definitely curious.  She has always loved babies...  She says she can't wait to have a family.

Sometimes I think that is the biggest complement -- is her wanting a family reflective of our family?  have we done a good job?

In the same moment, one of the questions that I asked her from the suggested list had something to do with "what scares you about growing up".  "I don't want to grow up, Mommy.  I am afraid to grow up."  Why, honey?  what scares you?  Growing up means dealing with death and being afraid.  Shit.  Life is a wonderful thing, honey.  It offers you a wide open canvas, where you can paint your life however you want.  There are opportunities and so much to offer.  At ten years old you shouldn't be worrying about death. 

Maddy spent a lot of time at the hospital, not as much as she wanted to - she wanted to be there with us.  She also didn't want to be there.  To be there meant she had to realize that her number 2 mom was leaving us.  She wrote that Melissa's skin was cool and soft, kind of clammy.  She wasted away to nothing and didn't wake up even though we were all hanging out in her room for so long.  The time there is a blur.  I went every day.  I couldn't not go.  

The night that Melissa died, we had been there.  We were finally home about 9pmish.  I still have the email that I sent to Jack so I know the time that Matt called.  He just said - We're done.  She's gone.  I get chills when I write that.  I am so sorry Matt.  I am so sorry. Thank you for calling me.  I am so so sorry... I still am.  not any fault kind of sorry - just sorry in a way that makes me sad, I wish our lives never took this turn.  I looked recently at her blog... she had started her own when she was diagnosed.  you can see it here:  http://hopingforsomegrace.blogspot.com/.  Then she was invited to write for the NLCP, and switched to a more formal audience... http://nationallungcancerpartnership.org/melissas_blog/index.php/about/.  Her original blog reminds me of her daily life, of which I was a daily part.  there are memories that flood me when I read a post, that I have put away so far, and just now am reaching back to feel again.  They hurt.  they feel good.  she was here, she was vital and terminally positive.  Now I know that that terminal positivity is another way of being desperately in denial.  

it's fucked. of all the things --- I can usually find some silver lining. not with this one.  nothing is worth it.