Cake or Death?

It’s been a really difficult week for my husband, Garth (not his real name) what, with all the banking bru-ha-ha of late and STILL trying really hard to reassure his customers that everything is, you know, fine.  Then, driving into work one morning and hearing on the radio that he…um…works for someone else.

Niiiiice.

Then, his uncle was hospitalized and Garth (not his real name) stopped by the soccer fields on Monday, to switch cars with me (mine is better at highway speeds and doesn’t rattle as much, like his) so, he could take my MIL up to see her brother, perhaps for the last time, which was a good thing.

[takes deep breath]

Because, he was moved into Hospice on Wednesday and has been pretty much unconscious since then.

Yesterday, Uncle Jimmy lost his battle with THE BITCH that is Cancer and we spent most of last night figuring out the best way to tell the kids.

Garth (not his real name) thought it would be best to wait until the morning and that’s when my Hungarian kicked in and I was all, like, break out the wine and let’s talk about death, baby!

No, you’re right, it’s probably not really nice to celebrate the loss of a loved one – especially, after battling such a devistatingly horrible disease – but, I also believe that acknowledging the fact that the man suffered terribly and perhaps is in a much better place, rather than mourning the end of his life on earth, to be a happy median.

Besides, the kids already knew that Uncle Jimmy was very, very sick.

"Is he going to die?"

But, for all my BIG talks, my husband and I just couldn’t come out and, you know, say it.

"Well, he’s sleeping."

Niiiiice.

"I mean, the hospital gave him medicine so he doesn’t hurt."

Which, is why it was a good thing that Garth (not his real name) and my MIL got to see (and talk) to him, before the Morphine took him away.

"But, is he going to die?"

UGH.

"Well, he’s sleeping."

Now that I think on it, no wonder Garth (not his real name) didn’t want to tell the kids at bedtime.

"I think that maybe you should."

Or, send them off to school sad, what’s the difference?

"OH NO!"

Either way, it sucks.

"I don’t want anyone ELSE to die!"

Poor Mini-me.

"It’s a part of life, baby."

Niiiiice.

"A person dies and babies are born, every day."

Then, we spent the next few minutes talking about babies and who was alive when each of them were born.

"Actually, everyone you love is still with you."

Then, I remembered the date.

"Except, Mamamama."

My Grandmother passed away 5 years ago, today.

"But, I didn’t know her so much."

It’s then that it hit me.

"Because, I was widdle."

Mini-me was only 2 at the time and a shovel, straight to the head, would have probably made the same impact.

"I don’t want anyone ELSE to die!"

UGH!

"I know, baby."

I mean, Uncle Jimmy was only 2 years older than my Father and my inlaws are both 7 years older!

"But, right now, we should think about making Daddy feel better."

That’s when all 4 of my kids gathered around Garth (not his real name) hugged him and kissed him some more and, well, we were both glad THAT was over!

"How about some cake!?!?"

No, you’re right, it may not have been the best way to send the kiddos off to bed – although, all the extra hugs and kisses really DID seem to help make my husband feel better than, you know, he has in weeks – but, I never claimed to be a parenting expert.

[takes deep breath]

Then again, you probably already knew that.

Rest in peace, Uncle Jimmy – even though we didn’t get a chance to see each other all that often – we miss you already.

Oh, and be sure to say "Hi" to Mamama for me.

[grin]

Be careful, the woman likes to party, I’m just sayin’!

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