So, I put Dex to bed. Laid him down and tried to give him a kiss good night. He told me he didn't want kisses from me, just from Daddy. I handed him the picture I framed of him and my Dad kissing right before Dad passed away.
He kisses that picture almost every night (which is why there are dried white toothpaste spots all over it) I told him, "Tutu man would like some kisses. He really misses you." Dexter still wouldn't pass out any kisses to anyone but Daddy. So, I kissed the picture and said, "Good night, Dad. I love you." And then Dexter started crying. At first I just blew it off as him being too tired, and the fact that he doesn't think that his Tutu man could also be my Dad. He can't be both!
Dexter started to argue with me through tears and tell me that wasn't my Dad. It was HIS Tutu man! Something about his tears and the way his face looked told me it wasn't just the misunderstanding of how my Dad could be two things at once. It wasn't just Dexter being possessive over his Tutu man. There was something else troubling his tender heart. I dismissed it, gave him kisses and left the room knowing he would fall asleep within minutes from being so tired.
But then I heard it. It was unmistakable. He wasn't just tired. He was hurting. I went into his room and told him what I thought would make him feel better, "Dexter, this is your Tutu man. ok, he's all yours." But it didn't help. His eyes were still full of sorrow and he said to me, "No, that's not my Tutu man anymore." I asked him why and told him once more that it was, and then came THE talk.
"No, it's not my Tutu man anymore! *sobs* he's dead."
I say it was a talk but that was really all that was said. It wasn't a conversation, it was just that one phrase. And I wish I could say that when he said that I picked him up and held him in my arms until he stopped crying, and told him that his Tutu man watches over him every day and smiles whenever he sees Dexter. But I didn't. My heart was too broken.
I laid there (I had told Dex earlier that I would lay in his room with him until he calmed down) and sobbed. I cried a little for myself because I missed my Dad so terribly but my heart hurt the most for my son. My little 3 year old that had figured out that he kissed a picture every night because his grandfather wouldn't ever be there to give him kisses in person. I cried because he was so broken by it. I cried because my son, at 3, had been effected by such an ugly thing as death. I cried because it was so damn bittersweet.
As a mother who has lost a parent, I always pray to God that Dexter will remember my Dad. I always try to talk about him to Dexter and show him pictures so he doesn't forget who he is. And in that moment it made me so happy to know that Dexter still remembered my Dad, but it hurt to know that his love was still so strong that his little heart was torn apart at the realization that his hero was gone.
I should have been a better mother and I should have talked to him more, but I didn't. I just cried with a broken heart for myself and for my son. I'm sure it will come up again sometime, and I just pray that next time I have the strength to explain things and use it as a positive time to talk about what a wonderful man my Dad was.
