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Matt and I were together for 10 wonderful years - met in 1998, married in 2002, until his untimely death on November 15, 2008. We have two beautiful, healthy children - Jacob (born 5/04) and Sydney (born 5/07)... the most precious gifts he could have ever given me.

Friday, April 30, 2010

My sweet, innocent, little boy...

Yesterday afternoon when I picked Jacob up from school, he asked me,  "When we go back to Buffalo, can we visit our friend the police officer who told us our daddy died?"

The irony of the timing of his question was amazing. If he only knew... I wasn't quite sure what to say.

Do I say, "Honey, I've heard his voice and words over and over again in my head, and see his face so vividly still in my mind - I don't need him in front of me."

On the other hand, he was so compassionate and caring. It would probably mean a lot to him to see us again and know that we're still living and breathing, and doing OK. After all, his first visit to us after Matt died had been delayed because he didn't want to bring me pain with his presence - he just wanted to see how we were.

I wanted to ask Jacob, "Why would you want to see him? How did him telling us your daddy died make him our friend?"

My response, after a long pause, was more like, "Um, probably not, sweetie."

You have such a sweet heart, Jacob Row. I can learn a lot from you. EVERYONE can.


Lessons in Life and Light said...

What a sweet boy. You really do have two of the sweetest kids, Andrea. You should feel so proud.

Supa Dupa Fresh said...

I just learned this: your kid remembers the last place he saw Matt's body and thinks that's where he is now.

In a similar fashion I'm sure your boy is associating the man who told the news with a warm feeling about Daddy.

Heck, my daughter grieves our moving from the old house by complaining about the (broken) toaster I threw out. Is this displaced grief over Daddy? Or do they think appliances have souls?

They're funny little people, but sometimes they have a hint of how to cope, and animism (investing places and objects with souls) isn't the worst way, is it?



Crash Course Widow said...

I just went back and read your post from last year when the sheriff stopped by again because he was wanting to check on you. Similar thing happened with me. It was right before (like the day before, maybe?) I was to move out of "our" house about 16 months after Charley died, and as I was pulling out of the driveway to go get rid (um, "donate" is probably a better, nicer word) of Charley's bikes, I noticed a police officer was knocking on my front door. I was a little bit unnerved because the last--and only--time a police officer had shown up at my door was to tell me Charley was dead, so I stopped, got out, and went to talk to him. Turns out it was the second officer who was there that night on July 12. I knew there'd been two officers there that night but only one said anything to me, and I don't even remember at all what either of them looked like; I only remember parts of what the one said and, above all, my reaction. Faces? Big blank. But I had the business card from the first/main officer and I'd always meant to contact him and thank him for being as sensitive as he was that night, but I never did. Just didn't quite have that extra bit of energy for it. But here was this police officer standing on my doorstep, and it was mostly because he'd seen the for-sale sign in front of the house and wanted to check and see how we were doing, because he'd driven by and thought about us often. I thought it was quite touching. What a horrible part of their job.

And what an odd world where that's a standard, "normal" part of our lives now. Sigh. And kids are such odd creatures too. Anna's temporarily disinterested in her dad and his death. The only thing she'll say about "grief" (what little she can understand about it) these days and for the last year is about our dog that died last summer. Sigh.

Hugs, my friend!