When Noah Speaks Wisdom

Noah forced HIS hand today.  In the process, he spoke volumes of  10 year old wisdom into my life.

For the past two years, the ministry center I volunteer with has partnered with two local hospice chapters to facilitate a family grief day camp.  This is a one-day event for children and their parents/guardians who have lost a loved one.  It is a spectacular day, full of all kinds of wonderful things (I won't lie to you--some of the kids don't want to be there when they arrive in the morning, but we see some great changes throughout the day) and terrific people.  I have gone to help out with the children and some of the behind-the-scenes organization.  It's one of the things I love the most about our center.  When the date was announced for this year's camp, I signed up again with hesitation: as a volunteer.


A child's diagnosis of AS can make a parent really kind of dumb sometimes.  When my grandfather died, I didn't think clearly.  Because of Avery's age and Noah's AS, I have made most of the grieving about me.  I have forgotten that my children have also suffered a deep loss.  The day Denny died, Noah looked at me and asked, "What will Avery and I do now?"  My heart cried in anguish and even though I already knew it, I asked him to tell me what he meant.  He went on to explain, "Now that Denny is gone, Avery and I don't have a grandfather."  My son is correct.  My father and Shawn's father are not in the picture and even if they were, they are not good influences for our children.  Sadly, we have had to actively make the choice that even if our fathers wanted to be involved, they would not be allowed.  My paternal grandfather has never met my children and even though we keep in touch, he does not play an active role in our lives.  My sons have suffered as much loss as I have.  However, thinking with an AS brain, it didn't really occur to me that Noah was feeling much loss.  He didn't cry when we told him Denny died.  In fact, he had asked what was for breakfast after declaring that Denny had been healed by the hand of God and was in a better place!

Today was quite possibly the biggest blow I've been dealt in this grief process.  While at work, my son brought the Family Grief Camp application to me and said he wanted to sign up.  Thinking he meant he wanted to volunteer, I told him we'd have to talk to Miss Sue, our volunteer coordinator.  Noah looked at me with a look I seldom see on his face and said, "No Mom.  I really miss Denny.  We need to go to this."  It was a tidbit of normal that I didn't really want (usually they make me smile).  I held onto him for a few minutes while we both cried and let it all out.


So, this year, if you see me at camp, I am stepping out of my shoes as a volunteer and into a different role:  The one of the mom of a grieving child who has lost his great-grandfather.


*Just in case you are wondering about the rest of the conversation I had with Noah pertaining to grandfathers, we are praying for "a Denny" for him and Avery.  I reminded him that Denny was a gift to me, not my original grandfather.  He was given to me after my grandfather died and has been my grandfather ever since.  So, if anyone knows of a gentleman looking to adopt two very special grandsons, let him know where he can interview and fill out the application!  :)*