Finding the words to tell our children was and still is to this day, one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I knew what would happen when I finally found the words.
The children were very young when this loss occurred. Most of them did not process it for years to come. One understood when I told him; as best he could.
He went into auto-pilot when he heard my words.
I watched him fight back his tears. I watched him swallow down the knot that appeared in his throat. He was young. I didn’t expect him to go into auto-pilot, but I was no stranger to auto-pilot, I knew what that meant. I gave him time and I watched him closely.
I took them all in to see Daddy in the casket before the services began. I thought he would come out of auto-pilot when the harsh truth of life was laid out before him.
His only words were, “That doesn’t look like Daddy”.
A few days later, we were back at Granny and Papa’s house and he retreated to the back bedroom.
In an instant it poured out of him.
“Why Momma?” he sobbed.
“Why did my daddy have to die? Why did God take my daddy? Why didn’t he take someone else’s daddy?”
“Why Momma, why?”
His tears rained down with force. There was no amount of swallowing that would stop them. He had let go of auto-pilot and he was feeling every ounce of it.
In that moment, I had no answers. I just held him and cried with him.
The road was long and not always easy. It was merely the beginning of one child’s grief…..
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