In a whirlwind day of a whirlwind week, I am about as exhausted as a person can feel. My neck is knotted worse than a hair tangle in a wad of bubble gum. My lower back is singing the blues, while my middle back accompanies on the bass fiddle. Hips are out of alignment. Hamstrings are threatening to un-string themselves. My brain is foggy. Psoas is staging a coup. You might think I have the flu, or worse. But, what I have is actually a much greater affliction, one that takes all of your money and talks you into things you’d never believe you’d do. I have grandkids this week. As I sit here writing this column after getting them both in bed, a feat that required masterful debate skills, physical dexterity, and above average prestidigitation, all the transgressions of the day are forgotten. All I feel is the love doled out best by Doritos laden fingers and kisses stuck on tight with popsicle residue. They are precious. So precious, that it hurts to look at them sometimes – their innocence and purity. I had a different topic to give you tonight, but I can only think about this one single moment from the afternoon. My 6-year-old granddaughter snuggled up next to me on the couch, the Olympics showcasing Simone Biles on the beam, and whispered in my ear, “Didi, are you going to die?”
Not many things catch me by surprise anymore. With half the world on fire, half the world flooded, and a pandemic I still struggle to wrap my head around, you could tell me an alien invasion was imminent and I would just calmly google “best items to have on hand for alien invasion” and call it a day. Maybe I’d even start a Pinterest album for my imminent invasion outfit ideas. But this question, I should’ve seen this one coming. After all, my granddaughter Chynna’s namesake, the beautifully dimpled girl whose portrait hangs over the piano, left a legacy wrapped in a storybook blanketed in wonderment. Her name is spoken daily. Someone had an accident but didn’t get hurt? Chynna must’ve been watching from Heaven. Pathways swathed in feathers fall at our feet constantly? That’s Chynna telling us she sees us. New bouquets of flowers beg to be gifted to her in the cemetery. Songs she loved play at the darndest times. And, we are very vocal about all of these things. So, Little Chynna has a mental file of Big Chynna memorabilia that is quite extensive. Thus, we’ve had to explain to her many times, in the appropriate language du jour, where this Aunt Chynna is and why she cannot visit. Take into consideration that little bro Teddy is named after my late father who passed not terribly long ago. Then Chynna’s favorite dog, Poppy, left us, followed by Lucy, the one who was awarded “Best Under Cover Sleeper” multiple years in a row. To a six-year-old child who’s just venturing out into the world for scary things like public school and gymnastics, these absences mustseem like gaping holes. If things keep disappearing at this rate, does that mean grandmothers are next on the list?
Suddenly, this child who never stops, never stills, never ceases talking, stared me down with big, blue, disc shaped eyes. I saw her throat move as she swallowed. While it seemed like it took me two years to formulate a sentence, I’m quite sure only a few seconds transpired. I’ve never been scared in front of these children before, but this moment terrified me. I was about to say words that could either heal or hurt, except she wasn’t finished. There was a part 2 to her question. “Does die mean you stop breafing? Does it mean your heart don’t got beats?” Okay, I thought, she’s going all scientific on me. Thank goodness I took that big pause. So, I launched into a kid friendly dissertation on how heart and breath work together in our bodies and how dying does, indeed, entail the stopping point for both of those things. This led to lots of ideas on staying healthy and lists of things that are good for our bodies, and some that are not. She was thrilled that we both drank copious amounts of water today. She was elated to know that all the swimming we’ve done counts as exercising. She made the connection between eating the broccoli in order to get the cookie. Just like that, our moment of enlightenment was coming to a close. As we were turning off the TV in preparation for one more YouTube rattlesnake video search, I took the opportunity to whisper in her ear. “We know that Big Chynna and Grandaddy and Poppy and Lucy died, but I’m going to be around for a very long time. I’m doing all of the things I can so that I will still be here long after you grow up. OK?” The blue eyes hit me again as a little voice said, “Good. I fink you’re my best friend.”
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