I was reading a blog yesterday that talked about a cousin's death and having to tell a brother. I, too, had to tell someone they had a loss, and it brought to mind a story about my children's father when he was a little boy.
My children's father was raised by his maternal grandparents. When he was very small, his great grandmother came to live with them. She thought this little boy hung the moon and was the only child ever born. When the other grandchildren came, she would hide this little boy's toys because she didn't want the other children to play with them. She did everything for him.
She became ill and was almost bedfast. She also had a habit of taking her medicine everytime she thought of it, so she had to have someone with her at all times. Being a farming family, everyone big enough was needed to work in the fields, so the little boy was given the job of sitting with grandma. I'm sure this wasn't what he would have liked to be doing, but sit with her he did and found this to be quite a chore.
Then after a protracted illness, the grandma passed. Having no phones, this little boy was sent down the road to tell the neighbors about grandma's death.
He, being about 5 or 6, proudly walked into the neighbor's house, propped his hand on his hip, leaned against the door and announced,'Well, grandma finally died'.
I've often thought about how much that old lady loved that little boy. I've thought about what a chore she was to this little boy and that his only thought in her death was that he could now go out and play rather than be confined. He never knew the joy he had brought to her, and he only remembered what he considered a form of punishment having to sit with her. He never knew what a blessing he was in her life. Wherever they are, hopefully they are together, and enjoying each other's company.
Who was a big influence in your young life that you may know only through the stories you've heard?
This is a beautiful day in NE Arkansas. Hope it is where you are and you are getting to enjoy it. Pray for our country. Love one another.
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1 comment:
Poor little fellow. It is sad, but sometimes a relief when some pass. Although it is a labor of love, it can be confining.
You know, I cannot think of anyone who was more of an influence to me than my Father.
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