Touching Death

muerte-ninosCooper crawled into our bed this morning around 5:00AM. She was sobbing from a bad dream. It took me about five minutes to get her calmed enough to get her story out. She dreamed her Aunt Nichole had died as a car crashed into a store where she was shopping. Death was real to her in those moments. She moved from worrying over Nichole to missing Hunter (our lab) to then crying for her Uncle Chris, who you all know died about 5 months ago. She did not fully settle until we talked to Nichole on the phone at 5:23.Seeing death touch your kids is hard. Just yesterday Max was asking about Hunter and Chris and he didn’t understand that we would not see them again. He thought that at some point they would come back. I cry in those moments, moments when my kids lose a bit of childhood. I cry when I see their dad explain his brother’s death for the fourth or sixth time in a week. Pushing his grief to the side to explain life to the kids.

I cried this morning talking to Cooper because I know that death will touch her life many more times. Her and Max are the youngest members of our family by far. They don’t have a grandparent that is not under 60 and a few that are past 70. I cried because while I want to watch all 4 of my kids flourish and marry and have their own babies one day, I know that some days will be dampened by loss. By the time Coop and Max are having their own kids I will be in my late 60’s myself, Brad in the 70’s. The likelihood of us watching a brood of grand babies grow up into adulthood is slim.

Some people say that I’m too easy on the little’s, that I’ve gotten soft in my old age. I would say “so what”,maybe I am but just maybe I want them to soak up every good memory they can so that the good memories out weigh the bad ones when it counts. I’ve had friends this week lose a mother, a grandmother, a son and a pet. I’ve seen grief circle people I love too much in the last six months.

As Cooper and I talked about death this morning laying there on the couch, our conversation turned toward heaven. I said that one day, we would see our loved ones again and she said I know mom because Jesus is good. If all my kids get out of me is “Jesus is good” then I’m okay with being soft and too easy. I’m okay with a little less money and stress. Because when death touches us all, we need to be able to say “Jesus is good”.


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