Why My Boys Will Need Therapy

They are still babies, to me at least, but I think this week I may have set them on the path to therapy.  Not intentionally of course, but with choices I made, I may have caused some serious scarring.

It started on Saturday.  In wanting to put some closure on the loss of Nemo, Brandon and I discussed spreading his ashes somewhere he loved. We knew right away we wanted to do it at my grandparents' farm.  It was a favorite place for Nemo, and it made us happy to know a part of him would always be there.   We talk about death a lot in our house, not by choice, just the way it has been here. I try to answer questions honestly, but without scaring anyone.  Well, have you ever tried to explain cremation to a 4 year old? Give it a try, I dare you.  If you come up with a way to do it, please let me know. I tried to explain in a vague way how exactly Nemo would be returning to us.

Everything was moving along fine, even though we were standing outside in the pouring rain, until I poured some of Nemo's ashes into a cup. I thought it would be easier to have the boys spread a little bit by pouring it from a cup.  Big mistake. In my mind, it didn't bother me to hold Nemo's ashes, to look at them, to talk about them, until I poured some out.  Cremation ashes are NOT like fireplaces ashes at all.  That's all I'm going to say.  I started crying, Jack started crying, and Brandon started crying. Micah made a sad face, but it tends to be his fake-sad face, so I wasn't worried. Until he began to sob.  I knelt in the wet grass, holding on tight as my 4 year old wept in my arms.  I thought he was just grieving the reality of the loss of Nemo.  As we drove away he cried, "I don't want to leave Nemo like that."

My heart sank.  Maybe having a final good-bye, along with pouring Nemo's ashes from an urn was a bit too much for my little boy.

Then, in continuing our week of trauma, we knew we had to take our keys to the car lot that was holding our used to be new car.  We also knew that we had left two very important stuffed animals in the car, the night of the accident.  Two birds with one stone: drop off car keys and pick up the stuffed animals.  Brandon, rightly so, realized that taking the boys to the car might be a bit traumatic. So, we weren't going to. But they really wanted their birds and I finally gave in and said we would go by and see if we could get them. Well, we could, and we did, but not with some more sadness thrown in.  When I first returned to the car after retrieving the birds, their smiles went from ear to ear.   But as we started to drive away, Micah once again started to cry. "Why did we get in an accident? Dad shouldn't have been at that stop sign? And so on. We once again had to relive the accident and how we were glad we were all okay, even though the car wasn't.

Our birds were safe, although a little wet, but seeing the car again was a bit too much.

It's okay boys, I've got the name of a good therapist. Just let me know when you want to go.