This morning while I was still in bed, I raised my voice at Olivia for something I wanted her to stop doing. She got upset and went out of our room. Shortly she returned wanting console from me (she always wants some kind of closure after she is scolded).
I reached out to her and found that her hands are kind of cold. So I dragged her onto the bed, tucked her under the cover and snuggled her with my warm body.
I said: “Baby, I am sorry I raised my voice at you but you know why I was getting mad?”
She nodded her head.
Then she said: “Mommy, you just called me a baby. I am not a baby anymore.”
“Oh, Olivia, no matter how old you are, you are always mommy’s baby.”
“Even if I am 15, 16 years old?” “Yup, even if you are seventy years old, you are still my baby.”
Imagining herself to be a seventy year old woman and still be someone’s baby must be funny to her, she started laughing.
A moment later, she asked “Mommy, will you be dreaming about me when you are under the ground?”
Knowing Olivia, I was not really surprised to hear this question. “Under the ground? You mean after I die?”
“Yeah.”
“Probably will, but I don’t know as I have never been under the ground before. How are about you? After mommy dies, will you be missing me?”
She said: “Yes, I will. I love you, mommy.”
A warm feeling arose inside of me and I snuggled her even tighter
