With no formal religious training, I found myself floating in a sea of uncertainty. I had never thought much about death before my mother s illness. The only thing I was relatively sure of was that my mother was gone and wasn t coming back. She s too little. Trust me, the counselor said.
Children only ask what they are ready to know.
Sounds simple, but no matter how I try to follow my children s lead, when reality comes sniffing around their chubby-cheeked innocence, the mother lioness within me breaks loose, snarling, hissing, and spreading her claws. I know the truth, having done battle with it time and time again. I know what a formidable and tricky opponent it can be. I have the scars to prove it thick, callused layers of indifference and disillusion. I ve run away from many of these battles, leaving pieces of myself behind on long, tear-stained trails.