My Katrinka

My daughter was given the nickname Katrinka by my grandmother. I believe she was almost two at the time. Grandmom kept calling her Katrinka just to watch her stamp her foot and yell "I not Katrinka!!" So when it came time to name her for the blog, I took the shortened form of this nickname - Trinks. When I'm mad, I'm more likely to expand the nickname to Katrinka Marie than use her real name.

I have never been more proud of my Trinks than this week. We went out to dinner for her birthday and then I told her we were going to see Grandmom. She was okay with that. When I got in the car, I explained we were going to say good bye. We both cried on the way up there. Trinks was very brave and talked to Grandmom, even though Grandmom was beyond speech when we got there. When she was done, she went to sleep in the other room. When I informed Trinks Grandmom died, she was sad. I then asked if she wanted to get up at the funeral and talk about Grandmom, and without hesitating, she said she wanted to. All she wanted from me was notecards.

My mother and I sat at the kitchen table and watched Trinks write for a couple of minutes. She wouldn't let us read it, but left the cards on the table when she went outside. Mom read them, teared up, and noted that Trinks has been to too many funerals. Below is what she wrote, in her own unique spelling.

My great grandma was a great woman. She loved animals. She went to a party and we saw Cinderella and we all wor tearas. And we all miss her but we can cary her in our heart so let us remember her.

It was short, and absolutely perfect. While we waited for our turn to speak, Trinks informed me that she didn't want to talk about the Cinderella trip. She was able to edit her remarks while standing at the podium. We had her go first so if it got too intense, she didn't have to be there. She did great. I know Grandmom would have been proud of her Katrinka.