A Gift

Barbie's Grandfather died today. He was her step father's father, but they were close and I am so glad she was able to visit him just a few weeks ago.

I know from personal experience that the quick, unexpected death makes it hard for those left behind, but it is never easy to watch a loved one suffer either. I suspect nothing ever really prepares us for the loss of someone we love.

There is always that last conversation we didn't quite finish, or those little scenarios that might have gone better. For me is denying my son the chance to play "Heart and Soul" with me on the piano for his Grandmother. She wasn't feeling well that day and we never even dreamed that she would die shortly thereafter. He was eight years old and has never mentioned it, but I remember.

Memories like this can pop up at odd moments and bring up the same feelings that were there the first time. I find myself sharply inhaling, clenching my muscles, feeling my stomach flip flop and then, mercifully, I remember it was long ago and this is now. That is a gift I haven't always had. I have never been able to stop poignant feelings from fluttering back now and then, but I used to agonize over them as if they were still new. I don't do that for very long anymore.

Part of me would like to share these things with Barbie, but I know she is a sensitive soul. She needs to grieve in her own way, find her own paths. In my saddest moments, no one except my children could ever really touch me until I was ready.