It’s going to happen, I thought any day now, he’s going to ask me, “Mommy, where’s your mommy?” and/or, “Where’s your daddy?”.
I thought I would be ready.
I have thought about it a lot, actually. It weighs on me every day and especially when we look at photos.
Lucas knows who my husband’s parents are and that we visit with them often. He also recognizes my parents as his Grandma and Grandpa Adams. He may not be able to grasp the connection or relationship to me and his father, but he knows their significance in our lives. [If you're new here and don't know, my parents died 4 1/2 years ago and you can read more here]
So I waited with bated breath.
I thought I would have the perfect response. In fact, I had it rehearsed in my head; exactly what I would say. I visualized being in that moment, fighting back the tears, stating the facts, keeping it simple and taking all my cues from him. Just like the experts instruct.
I thought he wouldn’t ask for a few more years and then the day came.
We weren’t even looking at pictures.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012.
It was right out of the clear blue.
At first, I clammed up. I was stunned. And then I very quickly said, “They’re not here.”
That was okay for him.
He’s almost three so he accepted my response and went on to the next thing, the next thought. And as I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, I felt as if I had dodged a bullet and thought that is not how I wanted that to go.
I know he will ask again and eventually he will have more questions.
Next time I vow to keep it together and tell him what his dad and I have decided is the best answer for his tender mind and my tender heart: “They’re in heaven.”