When I first told my Mom that we were having a boy she couldn’t hide her slight disappointment.  She said, “What am I going to do with a boy?  What am I going to sew for a boy?  I still have too much pink and purple fabric to have a grandson.”  My Mom had 2 daughters and 3 granddaughters, not a boy in sight.  Then he was born and she fell in love with him.

Mom found that she really didn’t have too tough a time finding things to make for him.  PJ’s, a stuffed taxi that he sleeps with, pillows, blankets.  We just had to go shopping for different color fabrics.  She enjoyed the challenge.  And he enjoyed everything she made and still does.  His baby blanket is his treasure.  His PJ’s are almost up to his knees and elbows but he refuses to give them up.  They are Gamma pants and Gamma shirts.  The two of them really started to bond when he was 2.  Unfortunately that was also when she got sick.  But, I think that it also sweetened their relationship.  They had their routines of affection.   Little hugs and tickles.  Sometimes she would be so sick and so tired but as soon as she saw him she would suddenly find energy and a smile.  I would ask her if she was really sure that I should bring the kids and she would insist.  She wanted every minute with them that she could get.  I took them every Saturday that I could for over a year.  And when he was being a “normal” toddler and taking me to what I thought was the end of my nerves I would ask her, “Is he ever going to grow up?”  She would smile and pat me on the shoulder and say, “Yes, Lisa.  He will grow up.”  I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.  My son got used to going to Grandma’s to the point of getting very upset if we didn’t go to Grandma’s on schedule.

So when Mom passed away we weren’t sure what to expect.  Due to my son’s issues with crowds and noise we didn’t have him at the funeral.  Even though I grew up and agree with the philosophy of children going to funerals.  And I knew that this may make it more difficult to explain the situation to him.  But we tried.  And when we cleaned out her apartment I took him with me a few times so he could see that she wasn’t there.  He would curl up in her recliner with a sad look on his face.  But he seemed to understand.  He stopped asking to go to Grandma’s.

Then we went to Steinbach today, where my Mom lived.  And we were just down the street from her last apartment and he asked to go for a walk.  He wanted to go to Grandma’s.   I had a sinking feeling but knew this was an important walk.  He led the way and walked into the parking lot and then started to run up to all the patios looking for Grandma.  I finally had to stop him before he started knocking on doors.  I sat on the curb and tried my best to explain to him that Grandma wasn’t here anymore.  Grandma is in heaven.  She isn’t here anymore.   But he was not satisfied.  He kept searching.  He walked up to the back door of the building and asked to go in.  I explained again and he just hung his head and asked to see Grandma.  I finally got him to walk around the building and we quietly sat on the bench for a while.  He would turn and look at the door every few minutes waiting for Grandma to come out.  Then he went into the middle of the sidewalk facing the doors and waited, staring at the doors willing them to open.  All the while I was talking to him, trying to explain and comfort him.  He finally gave up, took my hand, and we walked back to the house we were visiting.

When my Mom was sick I was determined that my son would remember her; that they would have a bond that would last.  And I guess this is the temporary cost of that bond.  The pain is still worth it because one day he will grow up.