Navigating Death with a Toddler and Pre-Schooler

A few weeks ago my family woke up to find out that my Grandpa did not. He was 83 years old and had a medical history so full of initials it made even my head spin. I knew our time with him was limited but I wasn't expecting it quite so soon.

Thanks to our move to Eugene last September my grandparents have been a part of our daily lives. "Pa" wasn't just some old guy my kids heard about or saw in pictures. He was the man they would run in and hug and give Eskimo kisses to when we stopped at their house. He was the familiar face sitting and drinking his coffee in the church foyer when we would walk in, and my kids knew he was waiting for them to run into his arms.

As an adult, I'm sad and I miss him but I know it's our loss, not his. This world has lost vasts amount of wisdom but he is basking in the light of our Savior right now and his body doesn't ache, his weariness is gone. In the midst of my sadness I feel peace. He died at home, holding my grandma's hand. After almost 64 years of marriage I don't thing you can ask for much more than that.

I'm not going to lie, I feel like I'm really "good" at death. I don't get burned out holding the hands of the dying, or sitting with their families and talking about the process. I cry, but the tears are cleansing for me, not incapacitating. I'm grieving but I know that at 83 years old, his death was appropriate.

Right now the hardest part is figuring out how to help my kids understand and process their feelings. When I tearfully was telling Bethany that Pa's body stopped working and he is in heaven with Jesus she looked at me wide eyed and said, "He died? When Grammy's chickens die she gets new ones." My heart broke explaining to her that we wouldn't be getting a new Pa. As anticipated there have been emotional highs and lows and breakdowns. . . .  Especially at my Grandma's house where my kids can't quite figure out why Pa isn't sitting in his chair with Missy (his dog) on his lap. Randomly in the car a few days ago William said to me, "GG don't have Pa. We haffa fine him." (Is it awful that the only thing I can think to put after that statement is a crying emoji?)

So here we are, all learning and sorting our way through the most natural, and only guaranteed thing about life. It is beautiful and heartbreaking all at the same time. I'm so grateful for the life my Grandpa lived. His quiet presence and encouraging smile will be missed by all of us, but knowing that this separation is not forever brings me peace that surpasses all understanding and I'm praying that my kids will feel that unexplainable peace as well.