I remember at his funeral, I felt the first kick in my belly from her.
I knew she was going to be his little angel.
So my children have one living "Great" grandparent, and it's often that we talk about great-grandpa and that he is passed on.
This has made a huge impact on K.
Frequently she talks about great-grandpa, though she didn't know him, but that she's aware "he's died."
Yesterday, out of the blue K asked me, "Is great-grandpa okay?"
Taken aback, I stuttered a bit, then came up with an answer for a 3-year-old.
I told her that he was okay and that he lived in heaven and that's where you go when you die.
"But, why did he die?"
He was sick and his body was tired.
"Where is EVAN?"
Heaven is....in the sky. (I'm going to blow this I know it)
"Can we fly there?"
No, you can't.
"Are there stairs? Magic stairs?"
No, you can't get there by magic stairs.
How do you get there? Has daddy been there?"
Gulp! Um...no daddy hasn't been there. You can only go when you die. (please stop asking me these tough questions, can we talk about Strawberry Shortcake instead?!)
Luckily at that moment, my son jumped into the car and I started talking to him about his day.
Hopefully, the rest of the week I'll be spared discussions on sex, death, or politics with the kids.