A Not So Wordless Wednesday

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How do you prepare your children for loss? It is something that I hoped Jackson would not experience for a long time; I hoped to shield his heart from such a hurt.

I remember when I first learned that people we love, things we love, they don't live forever. I was 12 and I watched the bus driver run over my dog. I was devastated and even chased after the bus, throwing a rock at the back window. Clearly, I have never handled loss well.

Five days ago my husband's grandfather passed. Little man made four generations of Kanatzar men; that four has now became three.

Clearly a not-yet-one-year-old doesn't really understand; however, I told him why mama and dada were sad, he deserved to know why there were tears. This loss makes me dread the future. I hate to imagine how it will be when Jackson is old enough to understand, to hurt and cry along with us.

Grandpa Wayne lived a long eighty-four years. Eighty-four years full of kicking butt and taking names. Eighty-four years of laughter. Eighty-four years of mischievous twinkle. Alzheimer's may have taken his mind but it could never take his spirit.

Thank you Grandpa Wayne for teaching me to see things in a new light. I will always smile and think of you when I see a fork.

Now, as he would say "Hell, get on with it."