Telling your kid his dad is dying

After the nurse reported that Rich was septic, he agreed to hospice yesterday. We met with the hospice nurse today. Based on his condition, she estimates he'll be with us another two to four weeks. With his sharp decline lately and the new people coming to the house, I wanted to talk to Ian about it last night. 

I took him to dinner up the street and told him that Daddy's cancer was not going to get better and he would die soon. These are some of the things he said over dinner.


“Daddy isn’t going to get better. The doctor’s all agree.”
“So he’s going to have cancer for the rest of his life?”
“Yeah .... About that ... He’s not going to live for very much longer. We don’t know exactly how much longer but he’s going to die.”
"Are you going to marry somebody else? So I can get a step-dad?"

"I'm sad that Daddy is going to get killed. By cancer."

“Are they going to put him to sleep like a dog?”
“No. Vets do that to sort of push the dog that’s very sick and dying over the edge. The hospice nurses won’t push Daddy but they will keep him comfortable while he dies.”

"Is Daddy scared about dying?"

"But Daddy is young ..."

"Almost everyone in our family and friends has a disease - Feenie, Gia, you, me (his cold). Jenna is pregnant and that's kinda like a disease."

I told him in addition to the special nurses, there would be counselors if any of us wanted to talk about being sad or worried.
"I'm pretty sure Daddy isn't worried."

"I want to tell Ms. Boutwell." [his teacher]

"I'm pretty sure Daddy's friends are going to be sad. Tom! And his Dungeons and Dragons friends!"

"What if our next daddy dies?"
"Everybody dies at some point."
"No, like in middle age."
"Then we'll shop for another one."

"In how many months will Daddy die? He could die any day?"
"Yes. Probably not today or tomorrow. But the hospice nurses will help us know when."

"Hey Mommy. Can I wear a t-shirt when we go to Daddy's funeral?"
"You can wear whatever you want."
"Yay! Most people will probably be wearing tuxedos. Will it be at the same place as Nana's?"
"Yep."
"You made me wear a button shirt for Nana's funeral and I didn't like that."

"When Daddy dies are we going to still own our house?"
"Yep."

"I feel so bad for Daddy. He's so young!"

He cried a little once we got to the driveway. I asked him if he wanted to sleep with me that night and he said yes. Then he fed the dogs and we went upstairs for a bath.


I emailed his teacher this morning and she said he walked up to her and told her right away. She let him talk to the school counselor and do some writing during the day. He wrote a letter to Rich at school and happily showed it to me, Rich's dad, and the hospice nurse when he got home from school. My kid is so awesome. Everyone needs a kid to help deal with death. They really have it figured out. 

January 19th

Dear Daddy

I really love you and don't want you to die. I am very scared because I think you are a awsome dad. And Mommy is scared too. I hope the nurses make you confordable with it. So that's all I have to say for now. I love you. Please wright back when your not dead. I promise I will wright another note. Bye and I love you. 

(this is an e)

Fireside chats with new friends

With the snow storm last weekend, I learned how to start a fire in the fireplace. I've watched other people make fires on occasion but never been very confident on doing it myself. But now, I'm like Prometheus up in this joint. 

After learning how to make fire in a controlled environment we then upgraded to the outdoor fire pit. And from there, we were fortunate enough to get a beautiful set of coals. I'm interested in doing some outdoor cooking in a fire pit soon, and I'm excited about the new tools at my disposal. 

In the meantime, I sat by the fire with a glass of wine while the children ran amok in the darkness and dropped more marshmallows than they successfully roasted. It was pretty great. I've met some new parents. Ian has found some new friends. And we all agree on the protocol of ignoring our children unless there is blood or near starvation. 

Fire pit and embers success!

Reverend Mills

Reverend Mills

Reverend Mills lives next door. He and Mrs. Mills are moving in with their daughter in Maryland next month. Their house has sold already, but he is still out watering the lawn every afternoon.

I stepped out the truck today and called out to him, "You're spoiling those people who bought your house, taking such good care of that lawn." He grinned and said that they were so sweet and they appreciated how well he had kept up the house when they bought it. "I wasn't gonna plant grass seed. But they are so excited to move into this house, I thought I'd do just a little extra for them, ya know." I nodded knowingly, bursting with delight at the "ya know" finishing his sentence, a statement versus any sort of question.

I told him about buying my house in OV and how the people we bought it from cried at how nicely we had restored the home they had originally built. He reminded me that he and Mrs. Mills had built their house, just as "Lenbert's parents" had built the house I was about to enter.

The L&J Gardens neighborhood was a pretty big deal in the 60s - Bay Colony for blacks. These were professional black families - architects, lawyers, doctors, businessmen and women, school principals, Tuskegee Airmen. Reverend Mills has lived here for 50 years.

He admitted that he's not quite ready to leave yet. His wife is excited about the new house. His daughter is excited. It's a gated community and a new development. But he trailed off wistfully that he's gonna miss this little ranch house something fierce. I reminded him that we're not happy to see him go either.

"You have an obligation to make sure that you leave something for the people that come after you. Your children need an inheritance. It's how you make sure that they live a better life than you did. I just told my daughter - she's my angel, ya know - I told her that her inheritance is coming now for this new house." He laughed at himself.

"Have you ever seen an angel? I mean, they walk among us every day, but have you ever seen one in the flesh? That's my baby girl. I am looking forward to seeing her every day. I'm 83, ya know."

He finished by saying, "God is good." I'm not sure if he was telling me that or just acknowledging it like the weather today. He went back to watering the grass seed.

It's been a rough week. I don't know if Rev. Mills knows how much I needed to chat with him today. We can't control how well people will treat the things we love dearly going forward. But we can keep doing what's right while it's ours.