That is the bombshell my daughter dropped on me in the car tonight. After all these months of discussing her dead uncle and all of the times we have casually mentioned my father in conversation, I find out that she has no idea why she hasn't met him yet.
How is this possible?
C: Well, honey, he DIED.
N: HE DIED, TOO??? How did that HAPPEN???
She couldn't have been more stunned if I'd told her that...I don't know. Honestly, I can't think of anything that would shock her more than hearing that my father is dead, too.
N: What happened to him? How did he die?
C: He got very ill. There was something wrong with his brain.
N: Oh. Was he very, very old?
C: Yes, honey. Yes, he was.
Okay, okay, I know that's a lie. But seriously, how much can a four year old's mind handle? Bad enough she has a new dead person to mull over, I really don't want her worrying about her own mortality along with it.
Knock me over with a feather, I just can't believe she didn't know. I mean, I guess I never came out and said, "Hey, so did you know my father is dead?" but still, I assumed that she knew. Jack knows. I think.
God in heaven, when you first get the terrible news that someone you love is gone, you feel like the pain will crush you right then and there. Little do you know the ripple effect that loss will have, like how they say a butterfly's wings flapping in Africa can cause a hurricane across the Atlantic.
What other important information have I failed to impart? I shudder to think what it is and how I will find out.
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