Explaining death to young children is never a particularly desirable subject, I find, as we wish to preserve their innocence and shield them from anything that may burst their fragile bubble, believing all is always well in their world. However, death is inevitable. Some folks lose loved ones later in life, while others experience death of a loved one at a tender, young age. Following is my story, explaining death to my five-year-old daughter, Carol.
My grandmother was fortunate enough to raise her five children, not only to see all eight of her grandchildren grow up, but also see her eight great-grandchildren, AND meet three great-great-grandchildren. She lived for almost 18 years after my grandaddy passed away, and was the last of her twelve siblings to survive. She lived through the great depression, and lost her own mother at a very young age. She was, in every sense of the word, a good Southern woman. She had the greenest thumb I’ve ever seen, able to revive even the limpest plant, and made the world’s best cornbread, biscuits, green beans, and fried apple pies. Fond memories of sitting on the front porch, eating watermelon after a big Sunday lunch sit firmly in my memory, holding a very special place in my heart.
She was four days shy of her 95th birthday when she went Home. [Read more…]Keep on saving! :o)
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