My father has been gone now for a little over two weeks. It's been a rough two weeks learning to deal with not being able to pick up the phone and call him, to not be able to drive to his house and see him, just dealing with not having him here. The last couple weeks of his life were spent in the hospital, although alert and conscious, but not pain free. I hesistated bringing my 3 year old daughter and 4 year old son to see him, but thought if I didn't I would regret it later. (Now I'm glad I did). The day he passed was difficult and I explained it to my children the best way I knew how to. Massive tears were shed.
Two weeks later....
Sitting in the doctor's office waiting for the doctor to come in and check on my sick 3 year old, my 4 year old started crying. When I asked him what was wrong, this is how he responded:
Me: AD, what's wrong? Why are you crying?
AD: I wanna see my Papa Steve.
His sister cuts in and tells him that we are going to see him after we are done at the doctor's office.
AD: No we're not AN, Papa Steve is in heaven and we can't see him anymore. Mom, I miss him.
Me: I miss him too AD.
...change of subject.....
We start discussing farm animals. Problem with this, Papa lived on a farm,, although there were no animals, the kids still referred to it as a farm.
AD: What kind of house does Papa live in in heaven mommy?
Me: Kinda like the one he lived in here.
AD: How am I going to see him?
Me: You will have to look up to the sky and know he is there.
AD: How am I going to hear him?
Me: You will just have to listen very closely.
Today was a difficult day. I wasn't sure how I would go about talking to them about their grandfather at such a young age. Some days I think being a 4 year old would be easier than being a 21 year old losing her father.