Wednesday, July 11, 2012

The Request

Normally, as we're leaving the BARC, Ryan talks about what he wants to do next, or the elevator, or he just hops and stims, walks, hops and stims, walks.  Usually this is what I hear:

"You WILL go to level 2, Mommy!"

"You WILL go to the bread store."

"HEB car wash!"

Always in his newscaster voice.  Always in the third person.  Never, "Mom, can we please go to get a car wash today?  Pllleeeease?"  Just what we WILL do, or he blurts out something like "HEB car wash!"  It's part of the process to, when he blurts out something he'd like, ask him "How do you ask for what you want?"  This usually results in his asking in a more pleasant way.  But this is just how things go.  It's our normal, if you will.

So imagine my surprise when, after therapy this week, we get just out of the building and he says "Nanny's house.  You WILL go to Nanny's house, Mommy!"



Well, it's...

He kept repeating it while I caught my breath.  Over and over.  Finally, I was able to stammer out something like, "Oh honey, I want to go to Nanny's too."

That wasn't enough.  He kept saying it.  Ugh.  "Died" and "passed away" are hard enough concepts for a typical child... or even adult... to get their mind around.  But Mr. Concrete?  Mr. Literal?  Oh dear.  So I did what any other mother would do.  The best I could.

He accepted it.  Was it theologically correct?  Not sure.  I told him that although I wanted to see her too, it would be harder since she moved in with Jesus.  I know.  Not the best answer.  But what do you say?

On the way home, I had a good 50 minutes to mull it over.  Pray about it.  Think about it.  And the answer?

That request from my son, my friends, was a sweet, comforting hug from God.  Or, as Mom and Dad S's friend says, a "kiss from Jesus."  Yes, it was hard for me to hear him request something that I couldn't give him, and all the more because I want it with all I am too.  I miss that woman every day.  She's all over my house in different ways, in different things she taught me, things she handed down, and in every time I subconsciously use one of her mannerisms or call one of my kids "shug".   Shortly after she passed, I kept having those dreams where I went to her house, and there she was, in the den!  After asking my mother what in the world was going on in the kitchen, I went back to Nanny, fell in her lap, and poured out how horrible it was when I thought she died.  In the dream, she'd stroke my hair, call me a "crazy thing" a few times, and it was all ok.  The only time in my life when I woke up with tears streaming down my face.  So losing her has been hard at best.  Having Ryan, who doesn't ask for much other than the people train, elevator, and certain floors, ask for her was quite a shock.

Then I realized that thing that made it all not just okay, but joyful.


I've been so sad that Mae and Richie won't likely remember her or how much she loved them.  I know it's just my feelings and doesn't have much bearing on the world.  But now I know.  

I believe that God knows and feels that pain.  I believe that He loves me.  And you know what?  I believe that he knows how hard this has been, whether it seems rational to anyone else or not.

Wow.  What a wonder.  The whole universe to run and He takes a minute to bless me.

Thanks be to God!

If any of you parents have any ideas on what to say next time, I'd be grateful to have your suggestions.  I'm at a loss, partially because he doesn't exactly voice his feelings verbally.  

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