A brief break from buckets
At dinner last night Bun Bun suddenly asked:
Bun Bun has a good mama? I’m not sure where it came from, but probably something we said in passing. Mr. Bunny and I both enthusiastically said YES!!! It quickly became a game.
Bunlet has a good mama? YES!!!
Daddy has a good mama? Eh.
Mama has a good mama? YES!!! (from me) Eh. (from Mr. Bunny)
This went on for a minute or two in various orders. Then…
Mama has a good daddy?
I used to, I said. Then I started crying. The rest of the family continued the game…
Bun Bun has a good daddy? YES!!!
Bunlet has a good daddy? YES!!!!
Daddy has a good daddy? YES!!!!
…while I did a little silent weeping.
It’s common to say that grief doesn’t go away, it just gets less intrusive. But it’s always ready to come out of nowhere and punch you in the gut.