Death has become part of the games my children play. Josiah (6) told me today that they were playing that Maranatha’s (2) daddy was dead and that Josiah (6) was her new Daddy and Abigail (4) was her new mommy (am I getting replaced too? )
Dassy (3) was playing with her dolls today and this is sort of how her conversation went.
Dassy: This is my baby. I have two babies. This is my baby’s baby (She’s a grandma already?)
I had two babies, but one died.
Me: Oh, that’s sad isn’t it.
Dassy: Yea, her mommy cried. This is my baby and this is the died baby (her wording not mine).
I put the died baby to bed and left him there.
Me: Like we did with Daddy?
Dassy: Yeah, we put him to bed and left him there.
We took the kids into the hospital after the nurses had moved Dan to a private room and cleaned him up a bit and let them say goodbye to Daddy. Abigail(4) remembers that his blanket was blue. Dassy(3) remembers that he was in bed and we left him there.