What Does This Button Do?
There are going to be a lot of firsts in this grief period - and yesterday was the first birthday party. My niece Andrea was celebrating her birthday and we all got together at John and Dana's for pasta and cake.
It was a beautiful day in nearly every single way. The young kids were shooting hoops and with supervision, fishing tadpoles out of the pond. The food was good, the sun was shining, the drinks were cold, and Jeff's kids were running around, enjoying the day.
Since Jeff's death my brothers and I have taken turns at being there for our niece and nephews - it's been a joy and my heart actually aches for them when they are not around. Rocco, who is nearly three, is always excited to see me, jumping in my arms, just wanting me to hold him. No problem there.
Rocco also likes to pull up my shirt and poke at my belly button, asking me each time, "What does this button do?"
I tell him that it blows up cities, and when he presses it I yell out, "Oh no, there goes Cleveland. There goes Detroit."
Yesterday we were playing the game and he stopped for a moment and looked me in the eye. Out of the clear blue he said, "My Dad died."
It was all I could do to hold him, but with my mother battling back her tears, I said, "That's okay, buddy, because he really lived too."
Ten seconds later, Rocco was blowing up another city.
Twenty-four hours later, my heart continues to ache, but as God as my witness, Rocco will know how much life his father lived.
We celebrated a little while longer. The hugs were more pronounced, and the jokes were told in a light spirit. Before I got in my car to leave I turned back around to watch the kids shooting hoops, and to watch Rocco, Farrah and Johnny head back into the party area.
I glanced up - feeling the promise I made to my brother deep in my heart.
It was a beautiful day in nearly every single way. The young kids were shooting hoops and with supervision, fishing tadpoles out of the pond. The food was good, the sun was shining, the drinks were cold, and Jeff's kids were running around, enjoying the day.
Since Jeff's death my brothers and I have taken turns at being there for our niece and nephews - it's been a joy and my heart actually aches for them when they are not around. Rocco, who is nearly three, is always excited to see me, jumping in my arms, just wanting me to hold him. No problem there.
Rocco also likes to pull up my shirt and poke at my belly button, asking me each time, "What does this button do?"
I tell him that it blows up cities, and when he presses it I yell out, "Oh no, there goes Cleveland. There goes Detroit."
Yesterday we were playing the game and he stopped for a moment and looked me in the eye. Out of the clear blue he said, "My Dad died."
It was all I could do to hold him, but with my mother battling back her tears, I said, "That's okay, buddy, because he really lived too."
Ten seconds later, Rocco was blowing up another city.
Twenty-four hours later, my heart continues to ache, but as God as my witness, Rocco will know how much life his father lived.
We celebrated a little while longer. The hugs were more pronounced, and the jokes were told in a light spirit. Before I got in my car to leave I turned back around to watch the kids shooting hoops, and to watch Rocco, Farrah and Johnny head back into the party area.
I glanced up - feeling the promise I made to my brother deep in my heart.
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