Grief V's The Toddler.

Well I have been kind of quiet in cyber space, and I guess in general. My beautiful sister and greatest fan died a week and a bit ago and everything I try to say since comes out kind of weird and wrong, the massive dangling snot from my nose when I sobbed my way through trying to read something at her funeral is a prime example of this. Many people came up to me afterwards and said I was "brave" for my attempt, who knew public boogey mishaps could be inspiring.
Like most things, not even the proximity to death could slow the Nazgul down. While on the whole she was tame, by her standards, she does get an honourable mention for unbridled mentalness during a difficult time. Sitting by my sister's death bed I was pouring my heart out, thanking her for introducing me to my husband and whispering many secrets and truths that are only for her and I. As a kissed her and stroked her forehead I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to see the Nazgul repeatedly stabbing a banana with my keys, Charles Manson style. Now as a Sydney-sider bananas are to us what cows are to the Hindu, so I was absolutely gutted to see my angelic looking daughter going helter skelter on the precious fruit. Which she subsequently peeled, attempted to eat but rejected due the the texture.
Obviously, things were pretty strange for the Nazgul after her Aunty died and she had an amazing coping mechanism of re-enacting scenes from Riddley Scott's Alien and attaching herself to my face all night and refusing to sleep. It reached a peak one night where while attached to my face her affection tipped over into insanity and she began kissing my face, graduated into repeatedly biting my face, then bit and sucked on my lip resulting in some quite spectacular bruising and teeth marks. I have to admit that at 3am a crazed toddler gnawing at your face can make you more than a tad frightened.
When the family was discussing the funeral arrangements with the undertaker I was quite pleased that the Nazgul was amusing herself quietly, just muttering "Bubble, bubble, bubble" to herself. She had very calmly covered the floor, herself and many of my sisters books in an entire bottle of bubble mix.  While highly annoying and slippery, it did highlight the fact that after spending over a week away from Rainman and My First Husband her speech improved dramatically. Turns out she could talk after all, just couldn't get a word in edge ways.