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Moi
- Snickollet
- I'm a mother and a widow, and a whole lot of other things. Here, though, I tend to write about parenting, grief, and their intersection.
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10 comments:
Lovely post. I know about slipping memories. It must be so hard to watch the kids grow up and to know that as they are getting bigger they are likely to let go of whatever they do remember. But the love you transmit, from and for him-- I think they get it, and I think they will continue to get it. It would be hard not to, living with you and all.
Oh, what a lovely post that is, Snick. Are you archiving these for both you and the kids later? You are a wonderful writer; so much you have to share is so touching and honest, making lasting memories for your kids. It doesn't even come close to having their dad here with them now, but you keep him alive for them in so many ways. Your mothering is such a gift for them.
Big sigh...
My stepson Myles was only 18 months old when his Mum died and he says he "remembers" her. My partner isn't too sure whether he really does remember her or he is remembering through conversations, photographs and other people's memories. Whatever his memories really are, I'm so glad that he has them, it's so important for him. We often talk about his Mum in conversation, it's not off limits in our home. I strongly feel that he needs to know that it's okay with me to remember her and talk about her.
You are doing a wonderful job with ensuring Maddie & Riley remember their Daddy. Maddie's "conversations" bring tears to my eyes...so heartbreaking and bittersweet.
It's so damned unfair, I'm so sorry.
Beautiful!
How you have a way of writing it!
I'm sitting at my desk at work w/tears in my eyes!
Huggs!
Beautiful post, Snick. You are doing all you can to keep the memory of John alive. Bravo.
If you think about the choices we make as parents (and have for generations & generations), we definitely structure our lives and treat our children as though even their very earliest moments are memory-worthy. We cuddle them close, we give them kisses, we sing them songs, from the moment that they're born. Do I remember being cuddled when I was 1 day old, or 1 month, or 9 months? Nope. But I have absolutely no doubt that those cuddles and songs have shaped who I am today, and that the kisses & stories I give my daughter help shape her.
How lucky that Maddie and Riley got 9 months worth of stories and hugs from John. It has already helped shape them, and it is part of who they are and who they will be.
I love how you're handling having John as part of life and not just left behind by death. Really beautiful post.
My grandfather dies when I was pretty young. Not so young I don't remember him, maybe when I was 8 or so. But since he was in the airforce and dad was in the navy we were never close enough to visit without a lot of planning.
I have seen many pictures of him. I heard many stories of him after he died. Apparently I was his favorite. At this point I am not sure if what fills my thought are actual memories or stories told over the years that have become my memories.
It actually doesn't matter to me. I love the memories I have of him. I often share stories of our grandfather with my much younger cousins who never had the chance to meet him. I can picture him in my head and tell you so many stories about the kind of man he was.
I used to parse through them trying hard to figure out which were real and which were stories planted in my head. Eventually I came to realize that memories are memories, no matter how they come to be.
I didn't need to know which are real, because they are all real. I know losing your grandpa at 8 is not quite as life changing as losing your dad at one. But the kids will have their dad in their heads thanks to your stories and pictures and the stories and pictures others share. It is my thought that they will be as real to them as if they were there and remember it actually happening.
Hi, Snick! I've been reading your blog for a while and figured I'd post now when I wasn't too intimidated by the loads of comments. Just wanted you to know I admire your courage and your heart for your children. I am sure they will cherish the memories of their dad--whether the memories are real or ones you gave them. Thanks for sharing. You constantly remind me to hug my husband one more time.
Wishing you all the best with your journey. Emily was two and a half and William eleven months old when their mother died from breast cancer. She was diagnosed whilst five months pregnant.
It was a desperately hard time, and I feel for your struggle now.
All I can say is that there's a future out there for you. And it's coming. Spirits up.
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