"what will we do if dad doesn't come home?" isaac asked me one day last summer when ben was gone on a detail.
"what are you talking about?" i asked.
"he could die out there, you know," he said.
and part of me wanted to tersely say, we are not going to talk about that. don't even say that. don't even think it!
but i realized that he was asking and maddie was listening and if i didn't talk it through, they would both just worry.
so, i said, "he could. you're right. but we would be ok."
"what would we do, though?" he asked.
"we would keep doing school together and doing what we need to do and probably move into a littler house and just be us." it's hard to think on your feet like this. but i knew i had to.
"you would have to get a job, mom," he said.
"i already have three," i replied. (i was in the process of finishing up one and starting two others at the time.) "we'd be fine."
he just kept asking, and she just kept listening - her eyes so big.
i finally said, my voice getting all thick and my eyes pricking, "you know what? God knows exactly what day He is going to take Dad to heaven. it might be out on a fire. it might be in our driveway. it might be when Dad is an old, old grandpa and he just lays down one day to take a nap and doesn't get back up. that's what i hope will happen. but i just trust that God knows what He is doing. and He knows what day He's taking Dad to heaven."
and isaac said, "well, i guess. yep. Dad will go to heaven, so that's good." he was pretty fixated on the whole thing, though. wanting to really talk through what it would be like if it was just the three of us. i finally started to cry. then isaac asked, "why are you crying, mom?"
and i said, "well, if you get to ask these questions, i get to cry. i don't want Dad to be gone. i can't wait till he gets home and we are all four together again."
and maddie came over and gave me a big hug and made her only contribution to the whole conversation, "i think it's time for some happy music."
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
last week isaac was running an errand with a family friend.
another man asked isaac what his dad does for work. isaac proudly told him, "my dad is a wildland firefighter."
"oh, i'm sorry," the man said somberly. "that is one of the most dangerous jobs."
when isaac told me this later, he told me, "mom, when he said that to me, i didn't feel good in my tummy."
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
on saturday evening, i was up at the skate park with maddie and isaac.
they were doing tricks. they do some pretty crazy stuff, maddie on her scooter, isaac on his bike.
and i thought, if one of them falls like isaac did last october, i would call . . . who would i call? mom and dad are out of town . . . oh. of course. i would call ben's best friend here in town. he'd help me scrape a kid up off the ground and decide if an injury was something i could take care of or something that would merit a trip to the ER. ok. well, good. now that's settled.
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
on sunday, while the kids and i were on our very long bike ride, maddie asked me, "mom, what would we do if you got really hurt or really sick while dad's gone?"
well, here i had just thought through the night before what i'd do if one of them got really hurt. "you would call m," i said. "he'd come help you out."
"i could call him?" she asked.
"yep. he's dad's best friend. dad would want you to call him if you needed help with anything. if grandpa is home, you could call him. but if he is away for work or a trip, you call m."
and we stopped right there and put the number in the cell phone that the kids have.
later that evening, i was with m and his wife and told them about the conversation i had with maddie. they were both very glad that i had told the kids to call them if we needed anything. and now the kids' number is in m's phone. so, we're all on the same page.
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
ben's profession forces us to have some conversations that other people aren't necessarily forced to have with their children. but why don't we all talk to our kids about these things?
we should talk to our kids about what-ifs. not in an alarmist or alarming way. but matter-of-factly and with compassion. the what-ifs do happen. people get into car accidents. people have heart attacks. people fall. other people make stupid choices that affect us and our family members. people die. people lose jobs. people lose houses. people get treated poorly or even terribly. the what-ifs happen. we should talk about them. there are obvious times, when they happen to someone close to us, when they happen in our town, when our kiddos ask us questions. we should talk about what-ifs, so that when one of them happens to us, or our kiddos, there is a context for talking about what's going on. if we talk about hard possibilities, then, when one of them happens, maybe our kiddos will have some assurance that we knew something like this could happen and we maybe even have a plan already. that way, when one of them happens, we'll know that we can talk things through with our kiddos; we maybe even have a plan already.
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
think through some what-ifs, my friends. make some plans. let your kiddos know what to do if you get hurt or really sick. let them know that you've thought about what life would be like if your spouse doesn't come home. invite them in to the rawness and realness of life. and love them there. let them know that you love them enough to be real with them. let them ask you the hard questions, and do your best to answer.
be wonderful, my friends.
love, ~e