More “Granddaddy” questions

I’ve written about this topic before because it’s the sort of conversation that comes up with the girls from time to time. But, while driving one morning last week, this question came out of the blue…


The Preschooler: When is Granddaddy going to come back down here?

Me: He’s not, honey. He’s not ever coming back down here. BUT, one day we’ll get to see him in heaven.

{long silence while she pondered that thought}

Me: Hey… if he could come down here, what would you want him to play?

The Preschooler {without skipping a beat}: Candyland and the Boz game {a character-themed take on the classic Memory game}

Me: Well, I can tell you that he would for sure love to play those games with you because he really liked kids your age and he would have really liked you. … You know that?

The Preschooler: Yeah.

And, with that there was more silence while she appeared to continue thinking about things she would play with him.

Like I said, this is not the first time we’ve discussed Granddaddy. But, honestly, it’s a mystery to me how anyone could miss someone they never had an opportunity to meet or know. I can’t quite figure out if they like to talk about my dad in the same way we sometimes talk about fictional characters… they hear stories and see pictures and know of this Granddaddy “character.” Or, maybe it’s a void they actually perceive in their lives because they know and understand that I had a daddy just like they have a daddy?

I just don’t know.

But, what I do know is that as much as I want to change the subject or say, “Hey, let’s not worry about it,” I can’t do that. I’ve got to keep answering their hard questions even when I don’t really know the answers. I’ve got to keep telling them who he was, and what he was like, and how very much he would have loved them. I’ve got to do that for them. And, because it’s one way I can honor him. I can’t change history. But, I can do my part to make sure these girls know as much as I can tell them about my dad so that he becomes as real as he can be in their tiny hearts.

I’ll be honest. When the questions get specific like, “Did his heart stop working?” or “Why did it stop working?,” I can hardly answer. I don’t know how to explain the biology, let alone the theology, of what happened to their young minds. And, many of those details concern matters I don’t care to dwell on. But, I’ve got to learn to feed their curiosity with good stories and funny pictures about the man I got to call “Dad” for twenty-seven years. They can’t seem to get enough information about him.

They especially like to study pictures of me and their aunt when we were close to the ages they are now.