My son cried himself to sleep tonight. His last great grandmother passed away last week, and I think her death was his 'final straw.' He is missing his Memaw, my mother. He has realized the finality of death. No more pancakes or scrambled eggs for him, which made him cry harder.
It's interesting to hear what he misses since his Memaw has died. He misses breakfasts with her. It's odd that he doesn't miss some of the other things they did together, like watering plants, vacuuming, watching cartoons together. She liked taking him to Target, buying him a toy each time they went. He misses those toy buying trips.
He had a great deal of freedom when he was with Memaw. He ate marshmallows for breakfast one time, and they went to Wendy's a couple times a month. I know he misses marshmallows for breakfast...a food item not allowed at the breakfast table. We hardly eat fast food, so he craves Wendy's on occasion.
I think he really just misses time with his Memaw. They were good buddies and saw one another nearly every day of his life. Memaw was a good grandmother to my son; she spoiled him like a grandmother should, but she always told him how much she loved him. His heart is sore; his eyes full of tears. He doesn't understand death, but really, who does? His great grandmothers were both in failing health and in pain, but not Memaw. Why, he asks, why did Memaw die? I wish I could answer him, but instead, I hold him tightly and cry with him.
