Sad.

Eva: Why are you sad, Mama?
Mama: Oh sweetie, I'm sad because Gramps died.
Eva: What's died?
Mama: Well, when people get really, really old, their bodies stop working. And then they can't walk or talk or eat or sleep anymore.
Eva: Or climb.
Mama: Or climb. And we won't see Gramps anymore.
Eva: But when we go to his house we will see him.
Mama: No sweetie, he won't be at his house. But we can remember him in our imaginations. And we can look at pictures.
Eva: I'm not old.
Mama: No baby, you're not old. You're very, very young.
Eva: Mama and Daddy aren't old.
Mama: No way, we're not old.
Eva: The workers won't take down Gramps' house. They'll leave it there.
Mama: You're right. No one will take down Gramps' house. It will still be there.
Eva: But Gramps won't.
Mama: That's right sweetie.
Eva: Mama? Ducka's kind of sad about Gramps.
Mama: Well, let's give Ducka a big hug. That's the best thing to do.



William Arthur Reimer
June 16th, 1922—June 22nd, 2009

He was a very, very special person, and I can't begin to describe the hole he's left behind him. I suppose in 87 years, a person can't help but make an impression. I'm not sure whether I'll be posting much here in the near future...we'll be spending some time with my family--and we'll also be trying to carve out a chunk of special birthday time to devote to a certain soon-to-be-three-year-old. I'll be back here for sure sometime after the weekend. Be well, everyone!