Babydays: June 2008 Archives

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June 29, 2008

Gus drawing

Gus drawing, originally uploaded by John DeVylder.

Posted by janna at 10:16 PM | Comments (1)

June 28, 2008

Watermelon

Watermelon, originally uploaded by jannacybill.

Posted by janna at 03:56 PM | Comments (1)

June 22, 2008

Empty boxes= imagination galore

Empty boxes= imagination galore, originally uploaded by jannacybill.

Posted by janna at 09:43 AM | Comments (0)

June 21, 2008

He finally asked

While Gus has kind of mentioned it in the past, it wasn't until yesterday that Gus asked me a series of questions about my Dad.

Gus: "Have you ever seen your Dad?"
Me: "When I was two. A long long time ago."
Gus: "Did I ever see him?"
Me: "No, and Papa hasn't and Eli hasn't."
Gus: "Awwh..." (said in that 'no fair!' kind of voice, typically the voice he uses when he finds out Eli got something he didn't.)
Gus: "Does he live in Chicago?"
Me: "No...." (Quickly contemplating, totally taken off guard... ok, he's four, do I tell him about death? How much do I tell him? Seriously, this whole conversation is totally out of the blue. Did I mention we were all in the car during this? At least I wasn't driving.)
Me: "He died a long, long time ago." (I just decided to put it out there.)
Gus: "Did his head fall off?" (Prior to asking about my Dad, he had made some statement like, 'Did you know that if your head comes off you will live for 30 minutes?' I have no idea.)
Me: "No, he was really, really sick. Not like when you or I get sick. He had something that not many people get."
Gus: "Did he have a cough?" (the typical 'sickness' in our household)
Me: "No..." (Okay, how far do I go?)
Me: "He had cancer. It's where his body does things that it is not supposed to do." (Trying hard not to say 'growth' or 'grow', a concept that haunted me deep into my childhood, something 'growing' in my Dad. I always equated cooked spinach with cancer, because I only knew of green things that grew, and I hated spinach, and I even moreso hated the growing thing that took my father away. I was in my 20s before I could really eat spinach. God, the brain. It 'tis amazing the things that 'make sense'.)
Gus: ...nothing... the movie playing has caught his attention.

It was a blip, something that finally occurred to him. I turned around and silently began to cry big fat tears, tears that always come, tears that will always come, regardless of the 30 years that have passed. I am reminded again and again how much it sucks that he was taken away. And I have no memory of him, it's all just stories and the possibilities that never were. I felt like such a victim growing up, honestly, and I don't feel that anymore. It's just sad. I am sad whenever I hear of children losing parents. I know how hard it will be, I know how the brain of a child tries to make sense of it. Sometimes I wish that I had been just a little bit older. Not that it would have been easier, but at least I would have a memory of something, not just memories of never knowing him, or memories of me always wishing I had memories.

When we arrived home, I picked Gus up and whispered in his ear, "Thank you for asking me. I love you."
He gave me a big hug, the kind where he put his head on my shoulder, and said, "I love you, Mama."

Now I'm not just sad for me. I'm sad for my Dad. I'm sad for Gus. That "Awwh..." will be burned in my brain forever.

Posted by janna at 10:03 PM | Comments (1)