I see them play in the Meadow from where I watch. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blond curls and gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs.
As I look down on her, I see her and her husband. Both of them happy as they gaze upon their children. It took so many years for Katniss to agree to it but she finally did. Peeta was always so good with children and wanted them so badly.

When Katniss could first feel that little fetus inside of her I could see the terror that cosumed her but yet once that child was born Katniss could never have been more tamed. She confessed many times to Peeta and others that carrying her second was a little easier, but only to Peeta she confessed that it wasnt by much.

The questions are just beginning.

I have watched over her, her little family and my old home over the years since my death. 
The arenas were completely destroyed, memorials built in their place and the Hunger Games officially gone but never forgotten. 
They teach about them at school, and the children will soon know that their mother and father played important roles in them. Katniss always worries about how to tell them about that world, that past that will haunt her for the rest of her life. The torture of being stripped bare till there is nothing left but pain. This toture was only emotionally for Katniss, she will not understand fully what is it like to physically endure this, unlike het husband Peeta. 
The song, that I used to hear my sister sing, she sings it to her children: 

Deep in the meadow, under the willow 
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow 
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes 
And when again they open, the sun will rise. 
Here it's safe, here it's warm 
Here the daisies guard you from every harm 
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true 
Here is the place where I love you. 

My sisters children, who don't know they play on a graveyard. 
Peeta reminds her that it wil be okay, they have each other and their book to help explain the tradgies of the games. He reminds her that they can make them understand in a way that wil make them braver, stronger, smarter.
But one day she will have to explain about her terrifying nightmares. Why they came to her, why they won't ever really go away and why she wakes up screaming. 
She will tell them she will survive it. 
She will tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because she's afraid it could be taken away from her. 
How she then makes a list in her head of every act of goodness she has seen someone do. She finds it like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years. 

But there are much worse games from them to play. 

My sister knows this. 

I will still look over her till the day that she no longer needs me. And as I watch over her, I am proud to call her my sister. I just wish I could have been there to fight off the nightmares and for her to fight off my own with the words of a lullaby. 

Here is the place I love you, Katniss.