You know those conversations children have when adults aren't around? Or at least our of eyeshot... Those are my favorite ones to eavesdrop in on. My boys talk about some of the most interesting stuff and I get such amazing insight into the ways their minds work.
If you follow my blog at all, you are well aware the Rob is fascinated by presidents. Abraham Lincoln is a true hero in his eyes and he and Ray both think the Civil War is a fascinating piece of American History and so it and relevant aspects are frequent conversation pieces in our home.
As I made lunch the other day, this is a bit of their conversation...
"You know Rob, Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves with the Civil War."
"Yea, I know that."
"You know, you probably would have been a part time slave if it wasn't for Lincoln."
"Yea probably."
"And Papa too. His skin is a little bit darker too. You and Papa both have darkish skin. It's not really black, but it's not white like mine."
"Yea. I know."
"But you are only a little bit dark so you would've only been a part-time slave. That means you'd work for someone in the morning but then you would've had the afternoon off to do whatever you want. Papa is a little darker than you so he would've had to work longer."
"Yea."
"Part-time slaves were easier to free that full-time slaves. I bet Lincoln was able to free them first so you would've got to free early in the war."
"YEAH!"
"They had to fight the war a long time to free all the full-time slaves."
"But he did it and now all the slaves are free!"
Hmmmm.... Something tells me we have some details to smooth out here...
Monday, August 22, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Goodbye Grandma
The last few weeks have been difficult in the larger Wx family. We have had to prepare and finally say goodbye to a staple of the family. If we are the bread, she was the soft butter that she always kept on the table. Grandma Wx was an amazing woman and she will be greatly missed. Michael and his siblings were fortunate enough to have grown up across the road from their grandmother. With her farmhouse directly across from theirs, there was a great deal of work and visiting to be done with her. When I joined the family 10 years ago, there were a lot of things that made me feel like an in-law, but Grandma was never one of them.
My children also loved the woman they called Great Grandma so you can imagine that it was with difficulty that they said goodbye. Ray had experienced a funeral once before with the passing of my grandmother a few years back, but it is a vague memory for him and not a memory at all for Rob who was just a baby at the time.
Grandma lived a full 87 years. Her love of life affected the lives of her 4 children, 15 grandchildren, and 29 great grandchildren. (And that doesn't even count the children and grandchildren she gained by marriage!) One thing that amazed everyone was when she decided in her 60's to go take care of old people at the nursing home. She never missed a day of work in 16 years and retired in 2003.
In the last few years, Grandma's health was not what it had been. Two weeks before her death, she fell and broke her hip. She did well through the surgery but the complications of pneumonia and blood pressure fluctuation proved challenging. As she tried to rally, her family gathered around her bedside and Michael and I tried to explain what was happening to our children. When we would leave them with my Mom or Sue because family said it might be tonight, Ray and Rob would get wet eyes because they didn't want Great Grandma to die. In the morning they would climb into my bed and with sad eyes ask if Great Grandma had died. When I would say no, she was still alive, their smiles and cheers always lifted my spirit.
Last week, family gathered at Grandma's bedside daily as the end become more and more evident. I will never forget sitting there Thursday night into the early morning hours of Friday watching her children and grandchildren gathered around her, holding her hands, stroking her hair, telling stories, singing songs and reminding her she had nothing to fear. Grandma knew Jesus and with that, we all knew where her place in eternity lie. The love in that room was so powerful and such a testimony to the woman she was and the life she lived.
When Michael and I left at 2:30 a.m., we truly expected to wake up in the morning and learn she was gone. But she wasn't. We went off to work and school while her children and some grandchildren stayed at her bedside. Close to noon that day, we learned that Grandma had left her pain and sorrows behind to join her husband and other family on the other side of the pearly gates.
I didn't plan on telling the boys until we were home and all together, but insightful and sensitive Rob asked when I picked him up from daycare, "Mom, is Great Grandma still alive?"
I looked into his big blue-green eyes and told him the truth. "No honey. She died today. But that's okay, because do know where she is now?"
"She's with Jesus," Robby replied with a sad smile.
"Yes, she is," and I swallowed back my tears.
We gathered as a large family that evening for dinner and fellowship. Some of us found our way to the floor surrounded by years worth of photos. As we pointed and laughed, told stories, and remembered, Sam walked up to my mother-in-law, pointed at her and in a puzzled voice said, "You dead?"
"No honey, Grandma is not dead. GREAT Grandma is dead."
"Great Grandma dead?"
"Yes, Great Grandma is dead. The only who lives across the road."
"That chair?" Sam asked pointing the rocking chair where Grandma sat nearly every Sunday and for any other family gathering.
"Yes. Great Grandma who sat in that chair is dead."
"Oh. Where she at?"
"She's gone honey. She's in heaven now."
"She on the roof?"
"No, she is in heaven."
"She in the basement?"
"No, she is in heaven, with Jesus."
"Oh, she with Jesus."
As the time for the funeral drew near, Michael and I discussed if the boys should go and what they should wear. We decided it would be good for them to go and have the experience now rather than wait and have it for the first time with someone they are even closer to. When Rob heard Michael was wearing a suit, he got his own ideas about what he should wear.
"Can I dress like a president for Great Grandma's funeral?"
"Sure," I replied too quickly thinking a shirt and tie would suffice.
"I wanna look like George Washington!" Rob said motioning near his neck, "I want a fluffy white thing!"
Uh-oh. "I don't think we'll find a shirt like that."
"Adams?"
"Hmm, no."
"Jefferson?"
"No."
"Jackson?"
"No."
"Who can I dress like?"
'How about Obama?"
"Okay. Or what about W. Bush?"
"Fine."
The shirt and tie were not enough and my quest for a sport jacket only found one: a Calvin Klein version at the cost of $90. But Rob was relentless. We wanted to wear his tuxedo leftover from Ray's ring bear debut. As I thought about if I should let him wear it or not, I finally asked myself what would Grandma say? She'd surely say, "Yea, sure, whatever you got it fine." I smiled as we compromised by letting him wear the jacket.
Word got around throughout the day that a future president was in the midst. It was nice to see people smile as they told Rob they would be sure to vote for him someday. I'm sure Grandma would have agreed.
My children also loved the woman they called Great Grandma so you can imagine that it was with difficulty that they said goodbye. Ray had experienced a funeral once before with the passing of my grandmother a few years back, but it is a vague memory for him and not a memory at all for Rob who was just a baby at the time.
Grandma lived a full 87 years. Her love of life affected the lives of her 4 children, 15 grandchildren, and 29 great grandchildren. (And that doesn't even count the children and grandchildren she gained by marriage!) One thing that amazed everyone was when she decided in her 60's to go take care of old people at the nursing home. She never missed a day of work in 16 years and retired in 2003.
In the last few years, Grandma's health was not what it had been. Two weeks before her death, she fell and broke her hip. She did well through the surgery but the complications of pneumonia and blood pressure fluctuation proved challenging. As she tried to rally, her family gathered around her bedside and Michael and I tried to explain what was happening to our children. When we would leave them with my Mom or Sue because family said it might be tonight, Ray and Rob would get wet eyes because they didn't want Great Grandma to die. In the morning they would climb into my bed and with sad eyes ask if Great Grandma had died. When I would say no, she was still alive, their smiles and cheers always lifted my spirit.
Last week, family gathered at Grandma's bedside daily as the end become more and more evident. I will never forget sitting there Thursday night into the early morning hours of Friday watching her children and grandchildren gathered around her, holding her hands, stroking her hair, telling stories, singing songs and reminding her she had nothing to fear. Grandma knew Jesus and with that, we all knew where her place in eternity lie. The love in that room was so powerful and such a testimony to the woman she was and the life she lived.
When Michael and I left at 2:30 a.m., we truly expected to wake up in the morning and learn she was gone. But she wasn't. We went off to work and school while her children and some grandchildren stayed at her bedside. Close to noon that day, we learned that Grandma had left her pain and sorrows behind to join her husband and other family on the other side of the pearly gates.
I didn't plan on telling the boys until we were home and all together, but insightful and sensitive Rob asked when I picked him up from daycare, "Mom, is Great Grandma still alive?"
I looked into his big blue-green eyes and told him the truth. "No honey. She died today. But that's okay, because do know where she is now?"
"She's with Jesus," Robby replied with a sad smile.
"Yes, she is," and I swallowed back my tears.
We gathered as a large family that evening for dinner and fellowship. Some of us found our way to the floor surrounded by years worth of photos. As we pointed and laughed, told stories, and remembered, Sam walked up to my mother-in-law, pointed at her and in a puzzled voice said, "You dead?"
"No honey, Grandma is not dead. GREAT Grandma is dead."
"Great Grandma dead?"
"Yes, Great Grandma is dead. The only who lives across the road."
"That chair?" Sam asked pointing the rocking chair where Grandma sat nearly every Sunday and for any other family gathering.
"Yes. Great Grandma who sat in that chair is dead."
"Oh. Where she at?"
"She's gone honey. She's in heaven now."
"She on the roof?"
"No, she is in heaven."
"She in the basement?"
"No, she is in heaven, with Jesus."
"Oh, she with Jesus."
As the time for the funeral drew near, Michael and I discussed if the boys should go and what they should wear. We decided it would be good for them to go and have the experience now rather than wait and have it for the first time with someone they are even closer to. When Rob heard Michael was wearing a suit, he got his own ideas about what he should wear.
"Can I dress like a president for Great Grandma's funeral?"
"Sure," I replied too quickly thinking a shirt and tie would suffice.
"I wanna look like George Washington!" Rob said motioning near his neck, "I want a fluffy white thing!"
Uh-oh. "I don't think we'll find a shirt like that."
"Adams?"
"Hmm, no."
"Jefferson?"
"No."
"Jackson?"
"No."
"Who can I dress like?"
'How about Obama?"
"Okay. Or what about W. Bush?"
"Fine."
The shirt and tie were not enough and my quest for a sport jacket only found one: a Calvin Klein version at the cost of $90. But Rob was relentless. We wanted to wear his tuxedo leftover from Ray's ring bear debut. As I thought about if I should let him wear it or not, I finally asked myself what would Grandma say? She'd surely say, "Yea, sure, whatever you got it fine." I smiled as we compromised by letting him wear the jacket.
Word got around throughout the day that a future president was in the midst. It was nice to see people smile as they told Rob they would be sure to vote for him someday. I'm sure Grandma would have agreed.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
When I Grow Up
Rob has a fascination with presidents lately. The first presidential incident that I can recall was back in February this past winter. President's Day was approaching and Ray, 1st grade at the time, was researching James A. Garfield and creating a presentation on him. I remember our whole family driving down 4th street in our Yukon and Rob inquiring if Washington was dead.
"Wahsington? George Washington, the president?"
"Yea, that's the one. Is he dead?"
"Yes honey, he's dead. He's been dead for a long long time."
"Oh."
We drove on further down the road while Rob apparently continued to ponder this. A few minutes passed and he said, "What about Log?"
"Log?"
"Yea, Log."
"Log? Like Lincoln logs?"
"Yea. Lincoln Log! Is he dead too?"
"OH! You mean Abraham Lincoln. Yes. He is dead too."
"AW MAN! ALL my favorite presidents are dead!!!"
As adorable as this was, I never dreamt it would be the beginning of a full fledge presidential fascination. Rob colors pictures (which he hangs in chronological order), borrows books from the library, listens to videos on YouTube, sing songs, and spots president pictures everywhere. I have to admit, he has taught me a great deal of history this summer.
The other morning Rob woke up way to early so as is customary in the Wx household, he curled up in bed with me. He fell back asleep and woke up again at a more reasonable 7ish. He barely peeked through his sleepy eyes and anxiously asked, "Mom, what do presidents eat?"
"Well, they eat food just like you."
"No, I mean, how do they get big and strong. What do they eat? What does Barack Obama eat?" His voice sounded genuinely concerned and on edge.
"They are people just like you and me Robby. They eat foods like fruits, vegetables, meat, just like you."
"Oh." This time Rob sounded very relieved.
The relief didn't last for long because soon he was fighting back tears as he rubbed his sleepy eyes, looked at me and said, "Mom. When I grow up, I want to president, but I don't want to die. I don't want to die when I'm president like Lincoln. I want to president and die when I'm done like Washington."
What was I to do? I scooped him up, hugged him tightly and said, "I think you'd make a great president. I'd vote for you. And don't worry. Now the president has lots of people to keep him safe." As I squeezed him a little more I thought to myself, "And until then, I'll do what I can."
"Wahsington? George Washington, the president?"
"Yea, that's the one. Is he dead?"
"Yes honey, he's dead. He's been dead for a long long time."
"Oh."
We drove on further down the road while Rob apparently continued to ponder this. A few minutes passed and he said, "What about Log?"
"Log?"
"Yea, Log."
"Log? Like Lincoln logs?"
"Yea. Lincoln Log! Is he dead too?"
"OH! You mean Abraham Lincoln. Yes. He is dead too."
"AW MAN! ALL my favorite presidents are dead!!!"
As adorable as this was, I never dreamt it would be the beginning of a full fledge presidential fascination. Rob colors pictures (which he hangs in chronological order), borrows books from the library, listens to videos on YouTube, sing songs, and spots president pictures everywhere. I have to admit, he has taught me a great deal of history this summer.
The other morning Rob woke up way to early so as is customary in the Wx household, he curled up in bed with me. He fell back asleep and woke up again at a more reasonable 7ish. He barely peeked through his sleepy eyes and anxiously asked, "Mom, what do presidents eat?"
"Well, they eat food just like you."
"No, I mean, how do they get big and strong. What do they eat? What does Barack Obama eat?" His voice sounded genuinely concerned and on edge.
"They are people just like you and me Robby. They eat foods like fruits, vegetables, meat, just like you."
"Oh." This time Rob sounded very relieved.
The relief didn't last for long because soon he was fighting back tears as he rubbed his sleepy eyes, looked at me and said, "Mom. When I grow up, I want to president, but I don't want to die. I don't want to die when I'm president like Lincoln. I want to president and die when I'm done like Washington."
What was I to do? I scooped him up, hugged him tightly and said, "I think you'd make a great president. I'd vote for you. And don't worry. Now the president has lots of people to keep him safe." As I squeezed him a little more I thought to myself, "And until then, I'll do what I can."
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