It’s been a week. I won’t detail the drama, but the kids’ Grandfather – Andrea’s Dad – isn’t well. Not well at all.
That makes for just more than a little worry in the house. I’m worried about their Aunt, they’re worried about both grandparents and their Aunt . . . and nobody really knows how to act or what to do.
It’s an odd circumstance, having to deal with the possible death of a loved one all over again. It’s not their Mom or Dad, and their Grandpa isn’t young, not really, but it doesn’t make it easier. My kids have all acted differently. The one key line that keeps coming up, from Noah, Sam and Hannah is “will Grandpa end up like Mom?”
If I learned anything from the last almost two years it’s that I just cannot lie to the kids. Nor can I really hide anything from them. The reality is we don’t know anything yet, not really, other than he’s likely got cancer and likely won’t make it. But how long? What type? Can they treat it? Nope. No idea.
“I don’t know,” is the line to my kids, and sometimes that’s okay to tell them. As long as I’ve added “but we have to prepare for the fact that he could.” They don’t like that. Hannah, in particular, started to cry. Add to that the fact that I’ve been sick with first a cold, then pneumonia, then a sinus infection, and last the flu . . . and I’d been in a near coma for the last month. Want to freak out kids whose Mom died? Get that sick for that long and then have a close relative get even more ill. Worry is the constant theme in our home right now.
But I’m recovering, seemingly well . . . finally. That has given them some bit of comfort. We have visited their Grandfather and Grandmother, both of whom are very ill – their Grandma with a genetic disorder that’s like Parkinson’s on steroids. I cannot begin to imagine . . . I married into the family, this . . . this is their family. I’m helping where I can, but that’s all I can do at this point.
So we wait . . . and we worry . . . until we have answers, or a timeline . . .
And I love them and tell them what my daughter already so amazingly pronounced: “we’re still here. We’re all together, and that’s something. That’s really amazing.”
A variation of what I’ve always said . . . We’re stronger together than when we’re apart.
Again . . . posts will be random and few in the next couple weeks. I’m hopeful you’ll understand.