This morning Zion and Jacoba were playing together like angels.

They were playing a game at the table in the kitchen while I was cleaning up from breakfast.  They were involved with the game and chatting about different things.

Then Jacoba asked,

“Zion, do you know what cancer means?” 

Zion replies, “Yes I do.” 

Jacoba said “it means you are dying.”

Zion said, “Jacoba it doesn’t mean you are dying, it means you are dead.”

Jacoba said, “I knew that.”

I looked at them.  They were looking at eachother.  I purposely said nothing. 

I soaked up the beauty in the moment.

Because it was beautiful.  It was two siblings, two friends, two people, two souls grieving with eachother the only way they knew how.  They know that their mom died.  But as important, they know they have eachother.  And when I have doubts of my own inability to shepherd these two glorious children, I take solace in their solidarity.