This week has been Spring Break for our grand kids and we have had two of them with us. We would take all six but for two reasons; the youngest would not leave her Mamma for that length of time and we just could not take six of them without sending back less than that number.
What is remarkable, to me at least, is that they know of my condition and what will eventually happen, and they are treating me like they always have. Except that they can't understand me all of the time, but then I have my Arkansas Hillbilly iPad. They have been kind and not making too many demands except for food. For some reason they can't go more than three hours without eating. It drives their Nana crazy because they do not gain a pound.
I am not for sure if I could face loosing my grandfather with the same grace as they are. Of course it is all in how we adults approached it with them. All my daughters sat down with their kids and explained that Papa was very sick and what would eventually happen. They understood. They accepted. They adjusted.
Which to me is amazing. Totally and completely amazing.
When I was a kid we did not discuss death, or for that matter anything to do with life like pregnancy. If a woman was pregnant my parents generation said she was expecting. We were not to ask any more questions than that. No further explanations were given. Don't dare to even ask! If some one was dying it was never mentioned. They were sick. Period. Don't ask any more questions!
My generation was not much better.
But the next generation is much better. They are not blunt about it, but very tactful about it. My girls are good at doing this kind of thing. Something that I have never been too good at, even with them. I am afraid that I was rather blunt when we told them what was going on with me. I confess that I was a coward. Scared poopless at what I thought their reaction to the news would be.
They were the brave ones. They had the courage to comfort me. Yes, that is what I said, they comforted me. Then they turned around and very quietly, very softly, very gently told their kids. I doubt I could have and glad I did not have to.
So now you know. They are the truly brave ones not me. All I have to do is deal with the disease. And try to comfort them. Then die. Simple right?
So why do I feel so confused and so much like a coward?
Until next time............
Dad, you have always been my hero... You are one of the bravest people I know. It takes a lot of courage and strength to deal with all that has been put on you with such dignity. Unfortunately, my girls have had to see a lot of death in their short lives. They know that it is a part of life. I hate that it is so normal to them in some ways, but you can't shelter children from the world. Everyone experiences heartache in their lives and it is my hope that they will be able to cope with it a lot better due to the life lessons they have faced. No doubt, they will be so very sad when that time comes, but it is not time to grieve quite yet. It is time to concentrate on living, loving, and making everlasting memories. They will not have to live with regrets of what they should have done or said. No one can be strong 100% of the time dad. We all feel confused and cowardice at times. That's what makes us human. Wikipedia states that cowardice is a trait wherein fear and excess self-concern override doing or saying what is right, good and of help to others or oneself in a time of need.... This is not you AT ALL! You are the ultimate comforter. I love you daddy... Give yourself more credit! You deserve it!!!
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