Post by nomorewirehanger on Mar 20, 2016 9:21:53 GMT -7
We've lost relatives before. Older aunts of my husband or mine. No one the children ever spent long amounts of time with or knew well.
So grief has never really played a big role in their lives as yet. We've been blessed in that regard.
Then there was Mr. John.
He's our neighbor across the street. Most of our neighbors are elderly (75+ years in age. Not kidding. And the youngest is in their 60s or so)
Mr. John and Ms. Betty are kinda special. They have six kids. Small house. Been married for 60+ years. Raised their family in that tiny house. And absolutely LOVE my kids.
Mr. John has been battling a combo of emphysema and copd for the last five years. He would sit on his porch with his oxygen tank and be entertained by my brood. A typical afternoon culminated in one or more girl children sitting criss cross Apple sauce in his yard with their afternoon snack talking his ear off.
Usually G.
G doesn't get along with most children but attached herself to adults quite easily. "An old soul" my mawmaw would have called it.
She's the first one who introduced herself to Mr. John.
My kids picked a million oranges in their backyard. Came home with a million childrens books or coloring pages (that their "grand babies" who are in their 20s long outgrew)
Mr. John entered hospice last week and passed away on G's birthday.
We hid them from the ambulances. We hid the fact that he had passed until this morning. Ms. Betty didn't want us to ruin G's birthday week.
We couldn't hide the fact that we didn't see Ms. Betty in time to deliver their hand made get well cards. Like I couldn't the tears when P innocently asked if Ms. Betty could mail them. And G ...in anger and pain said "passed away means dead stupid" before storming out of the room.
They are dealing with it so differently. L just left the room crying. No words. G gave me a hug before exiting. P just looks so confused.... crying but not knowing why. Not understanding that dead means gone.
I hurt for my littles. I don't know how to make this better. He was the grandpa their pawpaw ought to be and the one my father doesn't live close enough to be.
So grief has never really played a big role in their lives as yet. We've been blessed in that regard.
Then there was Mr. John.
He's our neighbor across the street. Most of our neighbors are elderly (75+ years in age. Not kidding. And the youngest is in their 60s or so)
Mr. John and Ms. Betty are kinda special. They have six kids. Small house. Been married for 60+ years. Raised their family in that tiny house. And absolutely LOVE my kids.
Mr. John has been battling a combo of emphysema and copd for the last five years. He would sit on his porch with his oxygen tank and be entertained by my brood. A typical afternoon culminated in one or more girl children sitting criss cross Apple sauce in his yard with their afternoon snack talking his ear off.
Usually G.
G doesn't get along with most children but attached herself to adults quite easily. "An old soul" my mawmaw would have called it.
She's the first one who introduced herself to Mr. John.
My kids picked a million oranges in their backyard. Came home with a million childrens books or coloring pages (that their "grand babies" who are in their 20s long outgrew)
Mr. John entered hospice last week and passed away on G's birthday.
We hid them from the ambulances. We hid the fact that he had passed until this morning. Ms. Betty didn't want us to ruin G's birthday week.
We couldn't hide the fact that we didn't see Ms. Betty in time to deliver their hand made get well cards. Like I couldn't the tears when P innocently asked if Ms. Betty could mail them. And G ...in anger and pain said "passed away means dead stupid" before storming out of the room.
They are dealing with it so differently. L just left the room crying. No words. G gave me a hug before exiting. P just looks so confused.... crying but not knowing why. Not understanding that dead means gone.
I hurt for my littles. I don't know how to make this better. He was the grandpa their pawpaw ought to be and the one my father doesn't live close enough to be.
