Be Gotten in my Grief

My friend, Double D, and I have been passing back this darling hat the last few years.

She has gotten me good in her endeavours to get the hat back to me!
Here’s the story that took the cake! This happened in June.

I gave it back to her in the summer sometime and now in the last few weeks either when mom was in hospital or at hospice, I received a care package. In this care package was chocolate, tea and a nice box of Kleenex.

Guess what I pulled out of the Kleenex box last night?

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Luckily, I had a toy to return to her today, the hat is back in her hands.

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Just got a text from my good friend Double D:
Lmao!! You double got me I hadn’t even unpacked the toys yet, I just read your post and was smugly chuckling to myself till I kept reading and scrolled down to Diego!!! NNNNOOOO!
Haha 😛

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Be Talking About Death

To go along with my post yesterday about no bad questions, the boys have started to concentrate their discussions about Nana on death.

The day before Nana died they boys wrote these wonderful letters to Nana, said goodbye and I love you through the window and gave kisses and hugs.

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Note: KT was our dog that died in June 2012.

Today, I was singing in the car, “The name of The Lord is a strong tower, the righteous run into it and they are safe…”
JC stops me and says, “That’s the song you were singing when we went to Vancouver and that woman died. Audrey, I think!”

Whew, a song reminding him of two Christmases ago when we went to say goodbye to Sexy Neck’s aunt Audrey. She died a couple of hours after we said goodbye.

I hope that the boys will only feel the richness of this time before and after Nana’s death. It has brought us down to ground zero in terms of what is important.

Our grief is raw but our relationships richer and our love stronger!

Be Asking Questions

There is never a bad question.

We have instilled this concept in our boys. I am not sure how this would work if you have a wee one with the gift of the gab, but for us it has worked. Almost 100% of the time we take time to answer their questions. We try to answer as honestly as we can. Sometimes we simply answer, “I don’t know!”

Friday, December 20th, sitting on Nana and Papa’s couch, we sat as a group. I shared that Nana is going to die. We said we didn’t know when, but that Hospice House is a place where people go to die peacefully.

JC (6 yrs old) wept and curled in our arms. CC (4 yrs old)started asking questions. OC (2 yrs old) stared at us with his wondrous eyes.

Daddy will Nana die?
Does she know if she’s going to die?
Will she get better?
What is cancer anyways?
Why didn’t the 4th chemotherapy work?
How do the little cells do that?
Why can’t the doctors find a cure?
Do they need more money?
Why did they cut off Terry Fox’s leg?
How do you get cancer?
What will happen to Nana’s shoes?
How will we say I love you to Nana when she dies?
Where is heaven?
What is going to happen to Nana’s shoes?

No bad questions.

No good answers.

Sitting in sadness.