In the mind of a child, life is perfect.
Ok, I’ll give it to you. Children fight with their siblings over ridiculous things like being first in line to leave the house. They fuss about having to wear their jacket when it’s 50 degrees, and then complain of being cold when you don’t make them put it on.
But, in the mind of a child, life is perfect, because on so many days, life just makes more sense.
My dad passed away unexpectedly 38 days ago. I lost one of my best friends that day. The month since then has been challenging in many ways, notwithstanding having to explain to my 4 year-old son why he can no longer see his grandfather, the person he lovingly called “Papa.”
My youngest son isn’t very old, but Papa already had spent so much time with him. Papa did the same with all of his other grandchildren. When we cleaned out my dad’s vehicle this weekend, it literally was overflowing with coins from Chuck-E-Cheese, which was where he would take my boys to play games every chance that he got.
This weekend, my mother visited us from her home in California. She had to take care of many things related to my father’s death, and my own family needed to assist her. My mother’s health, like nearly everyone’s at some point in life, is up and down (learn more about it in her book). She has neurological issues that are worsened with weather being either too hot or too cold. She lives on the West Coast, which thankfully, limits some of these temperature fluctuations, but she was visiting us this weekend in Texas.
Throughout her stay, I was thankful for a lot of things. I enjoyed the fellowship with her. I enjoyed recalling numerous memories of my father. And, moreover, the temperature here in Texas just happened to be fantastic, which by itself, aided all of our strength–especially my mother’s–over the entire weekend.
We dropped my mom off at the airport to return home today. We were all tired from several days of both physically and emotionally draining tasks, things that 38 days ago we didn’t imagine that we’d be doing now. On returning home from the airport, my wife was talking with my 4 year-old son about how beautiful of a day we were having again. In fact, unlike the cold weeks leading up to her visit, every day since my mom arrived, for whatever reason, had been just as beautiful.
My 4 year-old son listened as my wife finished talking about the weather. He was clearly pondering a thought of his own. He finally said, “I bet Papa helps God with the weather.” I paused for a moment to reflect on this one. Remember, adults are slower to make sense of certain things.
“I bet Papa helps God with the weather.”
Yes, son, I bet he does.