While driving to church today, I forgot my intended destination and, on
autopilot, headed towards Grammy's house rather than church. Henry noticed right
away and I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he was that astute and conscious
of directions. He is the grandson of truck drivers, after all.
Henry:
"Mama! Dat's NOT da way to church! Dat's da way to GRAMMY'S HOUSE!"
That
snapped me out of my reverie and right back to reality.
Me: "Yep, you're
right, Henry."
Henry: "Silly goose!"
So on our circumvent route to
church, I realized we would drive by the cemetary where my beloved grandparents
are buried. And the question came- should I say anything to Henry about what we
were driving by? What would he make of it? I decided to try it, anyway. I had
explained to Henry before that he was named after my grandfather and that
Grandpa Henry passed away before he was born.
Me: "Henry, we're going by
the cemetary where Grandpa Henry is."
Henry: YOUR Grandpa Henry? Who
die-ded?"
Me: "Yes, my Grandpa Henry died and we named you Henry after him."
And that was it.
Then we passed the cemetary and he saw the John Deere
store next to it.
Henry: "Lookit! Tractors!"
Me: "Yep, my Grandpa Henry
liked tractors a lot too." (He was a farmer.)
Henry: "Yeah! And when I was
your Grandpa Henry, I liked tractors lots n' lots!"
So this just made me
think of continuing our heritage, from passing down names to carrying on the
farming tradition and that part of my grandfather lives on in my
son.
Grandpa Henry died on June 2, 2004 and when I was due to have
Kathryn on June 1st last year, I had to wonder if she would be born on his
death-day. I suppose it would have brought some happiness to that sad memory,
but at the same time, I didn't want her birth to share that day. Then when I got
closer to the end of my pregnancy, I didn't care what day she came as long as
she GOT OUT. She was 4 days late and came on her own time on the 5th. It's hard
to believe it's almost been a year.
