“Why?” KitKat asked me.
“He died. He had cancer. His heart stopped beating and his body doesn’t work anymore.”
“Can we go to him and make his heart beating and then he can come alive again?”
“No. I wish we can. I wish his heart was beating.”
“We can get him from the ground and he can be alive again.”
“I wish we could but we can’t do that.”
“What made him have the cancer?”
“Some bodies get cancer. Not everyone gets it and dies from it.”
“Why did the cancer make him die?”
“It grew so fast but it doesn’t happen like this with everyone.”
“Is he a skeleton?”
“I am not sure what is going on with his body.”
“Is it decay(ing)?”
“Like a banana?”
“Does he get wet and cold when it snows?”
“I don’t know.”
When she realizes that John is not coming back, she will start to lose him. She will lose him. She will lose HER memories of her father. All the times they spent together. They will slip away. Her memories will fade and become fuzzy. The fuzziness will become distant and then it will be in short glimpses. Maybe-sometimes- she will remember details. Of course, I will remind her of him. So will Izzy. Of course she will have pictures of him to look back on. Videos too. She will remember certain things but not everything because that is just the nature of our mind.
KitKat wasn’t much for words until recently and John understood that. He really knew how to tune into her. He knew the strength of silence. They had that in common. Now, she can’t stop talking and I chuckle when I hear her talk. “I haded” “You losted” “I maded”. John and I would have a field day with her words.
He taught her so much and there was so much more he needed to teach her.