Last night, I was writing with Kyra on my lap (something I used to do with Andrew as well). She was busy picking out all the k’s I used, her favorite letter, for obvious reasons. Then, out of the blue, she said, “When I’m a mom, I’ll miss you.”
“Because we won’t live in the same house?” I asked.
“But we’ll visit,” I said.
Kyra agreed, making elaborate plans to live in the house we’re living in now. That way, I’ll always be able to find her.
“You’ll have to tell me how to get to your new house,” she said.
I promised I would.
“When I’m a mom,” she said, “will you be a grandma?”
“I will. And your kids will be my grandchildren.”
She nodded. I wrote and she placed her hands on mine, so we typed together, both thinking about that time when she will be a mom.
And how I’ll miss her.