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.