A Mom and Her Grief

I will never forget the day our four year old son asked me “Where is your mommy?” It wasn't a question I was prepared for. I had barely dealt with my own grief, much less thought ahead enough to explain to our son why he doesn't have two grandmas like everyone else. I remember feeling a rush of overwhelming emotions. I said “Nana is in Heaven with Jesus.” He paused for a moment and with childlike innocence quickly replied, “Well, let’s just go visit her.” If only there was a way to go visit her in Heaven, things would be so much easier. I sat him down and pulled out pictures of her, books she had sent him when I was pregnant and shared how much she loved him even though they never met.

This year like every year we planned to celebrate her birthday by sharing memories and looking at old pictures. This year was different, this year was more special. Our son asked if he could let balloons go home to Nana. As he let the string slip through his tiny fingers, he began to sing “Happy Birthday.” I couldn't hold back the tears and that was ok. He then looked at me and said “Next year I think she wants a cake and we can blow out candles for her too.”  I stood there realizing I was so scared to explain loss and grief to our son and it was unfounded. Our sweet son taught me so much more about grief on that very day than I have learned in my entire three years of living in grief.

My heart hurts for my children and the fact that they will never know what an amazing lady Nana truly was. They will never know the comfort of her hugs, the joy in her laughter and the sound of her voice. My heart hurts for my mom and the fact that she will never get to spoil them, she will never get to experience life as a Nana and watch them grow up. My heart hurts for me that I will never get to see her be a grandmother, never get to go to her for advice as a mother and I will never get to say “Let’s go to Nana’s house.”

I don’t ever want to hide my grief from my children. I want them to know that when you love someone so much and lose them grief is part of this messy process. I don’t want to hide my tears from them when the memories of her flow. I don’t want to let them see me hiding in bed on her birthday or the anniversary of her passing. I want them to see me celebrate her life, celebrate the day she was welcomed home to Heaven and celebrate the fact that she gets the best view of our lives from above.

Most importantly, I want my children to know that even though Nana is in Heaven, she loves them so much. That even though they do not have a Nana here on Earth, it doesn't mean they don’t have one just like everyone else. It just means that they’re Nana was called home sooner than everyone else’s.