Back Home (Part 1 of 2)

The boys and I visited over Labor Day weekend. We sat on the edge of my mother-in-law’s hospital bed in the living room, surrounded by Stargazer lilies and gladiolas. We told her how much we loved her, lavished her with drawings, clasped her body in a gentle-tight embrace.

And then we returned to Nebraska, while my husband stayed in Minnesota. He spent three weeks at his parents’ house, where he changed bandages, met with hospice nurses, fielded phone calls and held his mom’s hand.

Back home, I packed lunches and signed field trip forms. I lugged the stadium chair to the soccer field and whooped as Rowan scored a goal. I made small talk with the moms in the kindergarten drop-off line, picked up the dry cleaning, paid the electric bill, recited spelling lists.

And I fielded the questions.

My youngest, Rowan, was intrigued by the physical aspects of death. "What happens to her body?" he asked one day as we drove to a soccer game.

"Well, her heart will stop beating, and she’ll stop breathing," I explained matter-of-factly, like we were discussing what we'd be having for dinner.

"No. I mean where does the body go? After?" Rowan pressed.

I hesitated. Should I tell him about burial? Did he need to know that Haukebo, as the boys called their grandmother, would be cremated? How much was too much information?

"Well, sometimes they put the body in a wooden or metal box, called a coffin, and then they put it in the ground." I paused. "And sometimes they put the box into a fire."

"You mean they burn it? They burn the box with the body in it in a fire? Is that what they are going to do to Haukebo?" Rowan asked, worry edging his voice.

"I'm not really sure, honey," I lied. "But you don't need to worry about Haukebo," I assured Rowan. "Her body isn't really her. It'll be sort of an empty body, like a shell after the snail moves out. The real Haukebo will be in Heaven."

"I miss Daddy," he sighed, staring out the window.

"I know, sweetie. I know. I do, too."

I picked up my cell phone and checked to see that the ring tone volume was set on high. And I drove toward the soccer field.

Read Part 2.

Photo by A Simple Country Girl. Used with permission. Post by Michelle DeRusha.