Ashes on the Bookshelf

     Five years ago today my husband said goodbye to his dad. It was a chilly, yet sunny, spring day when we got the call that his dad had not opened his beautiful blue eyes all day. After having Hospice care at his home during the previous two weeks, we knew this call was coming. We headed out to the farm, so that the Hospice nurse could go home and get some rest while we spent the day taking care of him. Josh, my husband, and I fell asleep on the couch shortly after we gave his dad meds to ease his pain. However, Josh was too restless to nap, so he woke up to folder laundry and watch an old TV show.  While folding laundry, he heard birds singing outside and in that instant he knew his dad was gone. Josh went to check on his dad and his instinct was correct. His dad peacefully passed away as the birds were chirping about new life outside. 

    Most people that I know grieve through anger or tears. This would not describe my husband, at all. Josh uses humor to help him cope and grieve through pretty much every situation in life. We had prepared our kids that when his dad passes away he would be cremated. I thought we did a good job explaining what cremation meant to our then 5, 6 and 8 year old kids. I didn't. As soon as I had a free moment, I sent a quick text message to the kids letting them know that Grandpa Tom (who they never had a chance to meet) had passed away a few hours prior. Autumn was only 6 years old at the time, but sent a response that we will always remember.

 "Oh, I'm sorry. Is Josh sad? Did they cook him yet?" 

    This is only one of MANY jokes our family has made to help Josh grieve the death of his father. After "cooking" his dad, his ashes now live on our bookshelf. The eventual goal is to have his ashes spread at Niagara Falls. However, until we are able to organize a trip between Josh and his brother's families to Niagara Falls, Grandpa Tom lives and travels with our family. He even made a trip to Cocoa Beach, FL. and Disney World about a year after his passing. For some people, this humorous relationship with death feels uncomfortable. However, in Josh's case humor is exact what he needed to properly grieve. 

   

RIP Pumpkin

 "Mommy, can I call you in a minute? It's really, really important!"

"Of course!" I responded while also knowing that "really, really important" can vary anywhere between I started by period and look at my drawing. 

As I answer the video call from my 11 year old daughter, I can't tell if she is laughing or crying. She walks over to the hamster cage at her dad's house and shows me that it's empty. Not thinking, I ask if he escaped. That's when it dawns on me that she's crying because Pumpkin the Hamster has died. She is distraught and almost inconsolable. Her text to me before going to bed echoed her thoughts on Pumpkins death, "First I have a fight with my friend and now Pumpkin is dead. This is the worst thing ever!" The death of a pet is a tragic loss for her 11 year old brain.

In the midst of my 11 year old crying, I get a text from my 10 year old son, "Mommy I have sad news pumpkin died: ( she was not breathing when I came into Autumn's room. RIP Pumpkin." I immediately text and ask if he's okay. "Yes, it's sad, but she lived a happy life." The death of a pet is just a part of life for his 10 year old brain. 

I hadn't heard anything from my 13 year old son, so I text him to make sure he's okay. "Yep, but I think we should have pumpkin pie for dinner tomorrow." I can't help but laugh. The texts don't stop rolling in, "does this mean I can get a lizard now?" "Wonder if Daddy will put Pumpkin in the garden with the other Halloween pumpkins?" The death of a pet is dealt with using humor for his 13 year old brain. 

It amazes me how the same situation elicits such different reactions from my own three kids. Their brains will never stop leaving me in awe.