The Tough Questions

Being pregnant with a 4 year old has raised challenges of it's own. Nate's been really curious about the whole process, and often asks questions that I'm not really ready to discuss. He's awesome at catching us off guard when we haven't had time to think up an age appropriate answer. This is probably one of the toughest challenges in parenthood: teaching your child about life in a way that they will understand, while preserving their innocence. Though this question had nothing to do with pregnancy, Nathan brought it up yesterday and it was one of the harder things I've had to explain. Maybe it was just the hormones, but I quietly bawled my eyes out after he had left the room.

As Joe and I were looking for our birthing pool in the garage, we looked through a lot of boxes we hadn't opened since we taped them up in the move. In one of the boxes we found some framed pictures we had out at the old house. One in particular was that of my late brother Jonny and his monkey, Jacob. He didn't have any kids, so that monkey was his life. When I went out to RI for his funeral, my dad had made a bunch of copies of this one picture, framed them, and gave one to each sibling. Unfortunately, it's the only picture I have of him. A day later Joe brought the picture inside and placed it on top of our piano. When Nate woke up from nap he came down and noticed it right away. "who's that?" he asked.
"That's uncle Jonny." I said.
"He's got a monkey?'
"yup. The monkey's name is Jacob."
"I want to meet Uncle Jonny and his monkey."
"well..." Think "you can't"
"why not?"
And I thought about this. He doesn't quite understand death yet. I replied, "Remember how Mommy said sometimes people get really hurt or sick, and they go away and can't come back?"
He nodded. "Well Uncle Jonny got really hurt, and he's not here anymore."
He took a minute to digest that and finally said, "well, I will miss him."
I'm not sure why this particular moment effected me so, but it did. I will miss him too. I will miss never knowing him as an adult and picking his brain. I didn't know anything about who he really was until he died. I not only grieved the loss of a brother, but the loss of the chance to have a good relationship with him. He really was a good, cultured person with a lifetime of extraordinary experiences. I missed out on that.

We're not supposed to cry in front of our kids, or let them see us in a moment of weakness. So I sucked it up until he left in search of a snack. Unfortunately, he has so many relatives he will never have a chance to know, because I barely do. I tried to rebuild my relationship with my other estranged siblings, but it fell apart after about 6 months. And when they go, which we all will at some point, I know I'll be left with the same regret and sadness. It's amazing how you don't start asking yourself the tough questions until you're asked to answer to someone else. And when you can no longer avoid it, it can be brutal.