Sunday, June 22, 2008


I guess reading someone's Blog can be annoying when there's no rhyme or reason. I have been so random in my thought processes lately, and I feel like one of those drunken storytellers at a wedding.

I was thinking about all the kids in the family, and how they behaved through the whole death and funeral situation. The kids range in ages from 9 to 23; 16 kids: 4 boys 12 girls.

My thoughts drifted to my 9 year old daughter. The day that Pop died, about 8 of the kids were here at the house too. Naturally, there was a lot of crying and sadness. My 9 year old was the first one to ask if she could go up and say goodbye to Pop. I told her that would be fine, and walked her up to the room. One by one, the other kids followed suit, in their own time. Slowly but surely, things started settling down. The kids started talking, and the chatter turned normal. Eventually the silliness started, so we know those kids were ok.

It was cute, though, a little later on. I noticed that 9 year old wasn't around. Of course that was a little cause for concern, but not alarm. I just wandered through the house to see where she was.

I went to Pop's room quietly, and realized she was in there. I stood by the door and watched her. She was simply browsing all the items in the room. She was by herself, and just picking things up, looking at them, and putting them back, like she was "straightening up" the room, you know? No tears, just quiet time. I let her be.

So funny how you come to realize that kids really are people, too. They have their own mannerisms, personalities and ways of coping with things. It's kind of nice to learn that. We start seeing the fruits of our labor. Not bad.


  1. Those were touching observations of a profound loss for the young ones. You did a good job dad.

    Glad you're back to work and you didn't have to take out a loan on your cars. Good karma!

  2. She was just taking care of what she could for her grandpa. You know, tending to things. Kind of exactly like her dad. Yes, wonderful fruits indeed.

  3. I had one of those moments when my Dad passed too. I realized I didn't know where my almost 9 year old had disappeared to, so I went looking for her. She was sitting in the bedroom holding Dad's hand (we were still waiting for the funeral home to come pick him up.) I walked in and put my hand on her shoulder and she just looked up and said " I didn't think he would want to be alone, so I;m going to sit with him if it's okay."

    Kids can be so sweet sometimes that for a split second, you forget they are just a kid.

  4. I'm so glad to see you back. You have been sorely missed around here and J-land and by me. Kids and people cope with death differently and I think you did wonderfully, you know your kids well. Hope you have a happy Sunday evening and week ahead Mr. Sexy Man. Luv ya Jp!

  5. What a fantastic post and how wonderful you were able to witness it.

  6. Life has too much rhyme and reason sometimes dear friend. It's a touching and eloquent beauty to witness your own child in these moments. I've had a few of my own lately watching my daughter in her new found role of an adult. There is an echo of ourselves we see within our kids. Sounds like yours have taken the best parts of you hon. Thanks for sharing this poignant moment. (Hugs)Indigo

  7. Anonymous11:33 PM

    I think kids are the ones we concern ourselves with most during situations like this. We forget how resilient they are. You did the right thing leaving her be. She was saying goodbye in her own way, and maybe deciding how she would deal with it. You're a good Dad, Jimmy.
    P.S.: You apologized about not being around in my journal. I'm just happy the worst is behind you now.

  8. I remember when my Dad died. I was 14. Everyone in the house was all a buzz, someone on the phone making arrangements, others cleaning and talking, etc. I picked up my 6 month old nephew and went out to our sun room and rocked him to sleep. I stayed in the quiet, rocking him, for two hours.

    I'm glad you let her have her private time Jimmy. Some of us humans just need the silence in times like these.
    Love you,

  9. Beautifully written observation.

    Another possiblity of what little one was doing, is maybe she was picking up those objects in an attempt to get to know Pop know, learn more about him while she could.

    Nonetheless, it was incredibly sweet.


  10. It's probably just her way of dealing with the loss and taking it all in.

    I remember cleaning out my grandpa's house after he'd passed. We had so much fun going through stuff and finding little treasures. Anyways, it's a good way to connect to our lost loved ones.

  11. Anonymous5:03 PM

    We all have our own ways, and sometimes, they are just learning how to "do" things. I'm glad you gave the one kid some quiet time in there.

    I hope you're doing okay, too. You sound fairly at peace. I hope so.

  12. Your daughter is definitely very sensitive and sweet. Children have a way of handling a loss of a loved one in a lot of different ways. After my father passed away my youngest wrote a letter to him. It was the sweetest and most tender letter and yet I'm sure it helped him with the loss of his grandpa. I cherish that letter.

    That moment watching your daughter is truly a special one. Remember it always.


  13. I loved this post. What a beautiful little spirit you have there in your home.

  14. Hey there my friend. I have always loved reading your journals. You are so wise and a great writer. I wish I was as wise as you. Anyways this entry really was a touching one. I am so amazed when I watch children. You are so right when you say they are people too. Thanks for the invite. Take care Much luv Chris

  15. Anonymous10:18 PM

    I am deeply touched, Jimmy. Not only by the beauty of your daughter's heart and the sweetness of her soul, but also by the way you shared this with us. I was moved by your words to the point where I could see and feel what you did ~ if only for a moment. And that was indeed a gift. Thank you for sharing, and Bless you, in all that you are going through lately.


  16. The night before my grandpa died, I had remembered someone saying, they hold on to life when they're in that bad of shape because they need to make peace. I sat next to his bed, he was really far gone, couldn't speak. I leaned in and told him, for some reason I can't recall, some instinctual reaction, that he could let go, I'd take care of mama. He died the next morning.

    I remember before he died, praying that his last night and day would be perfect and beautiful, and oddly, they were. The night before was cool and breezy, crystal clear skies, you could see all the stars. The morning was brilliantly blue, stunning white puffy clouds, pleasantly warm for spring in OK.

    Coping for me at that time meant finding reason and faith and beauty. I'm very thankful those things happened like that. I'm thankful God let me have those moments that gave me peace in my grandpa's death.

    Kids cope better than people realize I think. I always love watching the kids, they're so much wiser sometimes...


  17. Anonymous11:05 PM

    Isn't it amazing to see your child as a separate person with separate processes for dealing and such. Such a small glimpse yet it says so much!

    Love ya babe!!


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