Recently I was in a parking lot fender bender. The minor accident involved me and another lady. There were no passengers. My car went in for front end repairs on Wednesday morning. I picked up the Milan Friday afternoon.
The kids knew Mommy's car got fixed. Friday night Mark was out with friends. I put the kids to bed and we said prayers. Out of the blue, Dean brought up Grandma Marlys. He began to ask about her accident.
Dean - "Mama, what happened to Grandma Marlys?"
Me - "She died in a car accident Dean."
Dean - "Like your car accident Mama."
Me - "No, not like my car accident."
Dean - "Did an ambulance come?"
Me - "Yes Dean. There was an ambulance."
Dean - "Did a policeman come?"
Me - "Yes. A policeman came."
Dean - "Did a firetruck come?"
Me - "Dean, I really don't know. I wasn't there."
Dean - "Why didn't the ambulance save her."
Me - "They tried Dean, but they couldn't fix her."
Dean - "Why didn't the policeman help her?"
Me - "They tried Dean."
Dean - "Was there a stop light?"
Me - "No Dean, it wasn't at a stop light."
Dean - "Did they take her to the hospital?"
Me - "Yes, but she died before she got to the hospital."
Dean - "Oh. Okay then."
All the while, Marly is simply listening, and learning.There were kisses, and the conversation was over.
The next day, we were heading to an kid's mini art class in Plymouth. An ambulance came by in the opposite lane. The sirens were on. The lights were flashing.
Dean - "MOM! An ambulance!"
Me - "Yes Dean."
Dean - "Mom, do you think there was an accident like with Grandma Marlys?"
Me - "Dean, I REALLY hope not. I hope the person who needs the ambulance is just hurt."
Dean - "Okay Mommy. You be careful not to get in an accident."
Nearly 11 years after my mom's death, all this seems like simple reality.
Dean's Friday night questions did not produce a stream of tears, just welled up eyes, and a few moments of reflection.
I am glad my children have question about their Grandma Marlys. Questions mean memories. Memories mean we will not forget.