Oliver was with us the whole weekend. When we first arrived we went straight to the ER to see Cary and I had no idea how much it would affect Oliver. I suppose I was still thinking of him as a baby that is oblivious to his surroundings, but I was wrong. As soon as we walked into the room he was clearly upset and bothered and I ended up hanging out with him in the hallways for an hour while Chris talked to the doctors and nurses.
Fortunately Chris' cousin and her family live about 10 minutes from that hospital and offered to care for Oliver most of that entire long weekend while we ended up moving him to Hospice, admitting his mother to the hospital for observational care and eventually telling him goodbye. He knew "Grandpa sick" and seemed to process the situation in his own toddler way, which is nearly impossible to navigate. Once Cary was in the Hospice wing, we decided to take Oliver to say goodbye. Cary had asked to see him and while I was confused if it would traumatize my son, I decided it was one of the few things Cary asked for in those last days and that Oliver was ultimately a resilient kid. We let him get comfy in Grandma's room across the hall, playing in her wheelchair, eating popcisles, and then eventually took him into Grandpas room. He held tightly in my arms and said a few potent things, "Grandpa sick? Grandpa sick. Grandpa sleeping." Cary woke up and saw Oliver and told him he was tired and that he loved him. Without prompting Oliver said, "Love you Grandpa, love you Grandpa, love you Grandpa." I then leaned over with him and he gave him a little hug and then Ollie kind of bounced back and seemed more his normal manic toddler self, wanting to get down and play around in the room. I almost think he said his peace, had a moment with his dying grandfather, and knew it was ok to move on with the living part of life.
That was about 5 weeks ago and in the past week Oliver has started talking about it again. We were walking out of the gym yesterday and out of nowhere he said (loudly), "Grandpa died!?" He's brought it up on his own three times in a few days. I try to talk to him about it. I tell him that it's ok to miss Grandpa and that Grandpa still loves him, but we won't see him until we go to Heaven too." I don't know that I even comprehend heaven quite that literally, but what else do you tell a 2 year old about his first tangible death experience? He doesn't seem upset at all, just aware. As we talk about it, he moves on very quickly.
We have to be sort of careful about the word "sick" now because he seems to think sick equates hospitals and dying. He saw a picture of my in the hospital from his own birth and asked if Mommy was sick. Chris had a cold and he was very concerned that Daddy was sick. So, it's sort of peaceful to think of death through a toddlers eyes - simple. At the same time, I wonder if we've done the best throughout this situation, saying goodbye to a parent while being a parent...
