We all die.
It's sad. It's the truth.
We can live our life thinking that we are going to die or live knowing that we are living the best life possible.
Lyla always has been an old soul.
She cares.
She deeply, TRULY, cares.
She has empathy like no other three year old. I live my life through her eyes and it's brighter.
In the book the mom gets old, but always holds and rocks the baby.
Here's my conversation with LYLA:
Lyla: "Mom, why is the mamas hair white now?"
Me: "Well when you get older it turns white"
Lyla: "So when you're old, you have white hair??" Me: "Yes"
Lyla: SAD FACE
Me: "What's wrong??"
Lyla: TEARS STREAMING.. Crying, very SAD FACE "I saw white on nana's head, in her hair! Nana has white hair! OH no! She's gettin old!!!! I don't want her old! She can't be old and she can't die!" HYSTERICAL CRYING.
Me: "Nana is fine. I'll tell her to dye her hair"
Lyla: "Okkkkk.... can she paint it please?"
Man, that girl is amazing. She loves like no other person I know.
