The Unwinding of the Miracle - Julie Yip-Williams Page 0,89

indeed Mia had never before been to church), I’m sure she has been having conversations about God and religion at school, likely with one of her classmates who goes to church. But Mia has been speaking of God since she was four, so it wasn’t all that surprising to me when she expressed this desire to learn more about Christianity. I remember a couple of occasions when we would walk by a church soon after I was diagnosed and she would ask me, “What is that building?” or “Who made us, Mommy?”

And then there are the infrequent conversations between her and Belle as they lie in bed:

Belle: God is dead.

Mia: No, he’s not. He’s everywhere. He made us.

So that is why we have started going to church and embracing the community it represents. And I go too, even though I am not Christian, because I want to encourage my family to avail themselves of whatever they can to help them through trying times. I trust that my children are intelligent and discerning and will determine for themselves at a later time, when they have greater maturity and knowledge, whether Christianity or some other religion or belief, if any, is appropriate for them.

Belle, however, does not seem so into the church thing. She likes Sunday school, now that it has restarted, but sitting through the services, however short and catered to children they may be, can be challenging for her.

This was the conversation we had as we were walking to church one day:

Belle (whining): Mommy, why do we have to go to church every day?

Me: We don’t go to church every day. We go only on Sundays.

Belle (defiantly): Friday is my favorite day because on Fridays, I get to eat pizza and I don’t have to go to church!

Even as Isabelle wishes for me to live, I know she is preparing for my death. I think preparation is a good thing, a very good thing for both of my children. I think it will ease the pain and the grief, but more important, it allows them to process that horrible scenario while I’m still here, so I can help them through it; so they can unleash their anger or whatever emotion at me or the world, and then I can soothe them; so they can ask me questions, as they have been doing; so they know from me directly how much I love them and will always love them.

I think of this as the “gift of grief.” We grieve together, now, and weep for their loss and for my passing, now, so that they are not left to figure it out on their own after I have suddenly vanished. Some mental health professionals recommend sparing small children this part of the dying process, but in my view and for my children, heeding that advice would mean sparing them a level of feeling and affection that is unparalleled, a mother love that will make lasting memories, and that they may never know again in their lives.

Isabelle once asked Josh when they were sitting in the car together, “Can I sit in Mommy’s seat after she dies?” And then one night at bedtime, she wanted to tell the stories, instead of me telling the stories. So she told two stories, with completely contrary themes. The first story was about salvation (possibly mine): “Once upon a time there was a dragon and a princess. The dragon ate the princess. The prince cut a hole in the dragon’s stomach, went inside, and took the princess out. Then, they lived happily ever after.”

And then she told her second story: “Once upon a time there was a frog and a princess. The frog ate the princess. And then the prince found a new princess and they lived happily ever after. The end.”

Isabelle’s behavior is so often uncanny. She exhibits an ageless soul that astounds me time and time again. In the moments when I believe in a God, I feel the power of this child of mine, and I am convinced that she was brought to me to help me deal with my disease. Or perhaps, more accurately, it is when I witness this child’s wisdom, her singular understanding of me, her magic, that I believe in a God, even that God speaks to me through her.

When Mia hugs me with her long limbs, I feel her love; I feel her need for me to bolster her being and her need for me to assure