G drives me bonkers regularly. His anxiety sets off my anxiety in a big way so it sometimes feels like we are a whirlwind of uncontrolled fear and emotion.
But there are times when life sprinkles a little wonder in my eyes and helps me see my beautiful G for what he is behind the anxiety and the tantrums over not-tight-enough shoes and loose waistbands.
Last night when D and I discussed Papaw's wake and funeral, he said that when the visitation began and they stood at the casket, G had asked a million questions, like, "Why are Papaw's fingers flat?" and "So.....he'll become a skeleton, right?"
(M refused to look at Papaw in the casket saying, "It makes me sad, so I just want to look at pictures." So while everyone else was viewing Papaw early on, M and I walked around and looked at all the photographs set around the room.)
At the end of Papaw's funeral yesterday, they had us walk up to or pass by the casket and then make our way out of the chapel. G walked up and cried a little bit and then walked to the back of the chapel with D. He sat in a pew and continued crying.
When I came back to the pew, I sat with him until everyone left. He asked if we could go up and see Papaw again.
At the casket, he touched Papaw's hands and said they felt cold. He rubbed Papaw's hair and said, "It feels like he's got some hair gel in there," and I explained that the funeral home had fixed his hair so he'd look nice. G leaned over, with his head in the crook between Papaw's face and the casket pillow, and sobbed, trying his darndest to give his Papaw one last hug.
He then took a tear from his eye with his index finger and placed it on Papaw's heart.
We began to walk to the back of the chapel, and he tried to go to Papaw again, but I explained that we had to leave.
Once G left the chapel, he went up and gave a hug to every single person he saw. Whether he did this for his own benefit or theirs, I don't know. Probably a little of both.
Anxiety can feel like a tremendous burden, but yesterday, I saw how anxiety in my boy makes him so sensitive and empathetic, which is such a gift to others.
But there are times when life sprinkles a little wonder in my eyes and helps me see my beautiful G for what he is behind the anxiety and the tantrums over not-tight-enough shoes and loose waistbands.
Last night when D and I discussed Papaw's wake and funeral, he said that when the visitation began and they stood at the casket, G had asked a million questions, like, "Why are Papaw's fingers flat?" and "So.....he'll become a skeleton, right?"
(M refused to look at Papaw in the casket saying, "It makes me sad, so I just want to look at pictures." So while everyone else was viewing Papaw early on, M and I walked around and looked at all the photographs set around the room.)
At the end of Papaw's funeral yesterday, they had us walk up to or pass by the casket and then make our way out of the chapel. G walked up and cried a little bit and then walked to the back of the chapel with D. He sat in a pew and continued crying.
When I came back to the pew, I sat with him until everyone left. He asked if we could go up and see Papaw again.
At the casket, he touched Papaw's hands and said they felt cold. He rubbed Papaw's hair and said, "It feels like he's got some hair gel in there," and I explained that the funeral home had fixed his hair so he'd look nice. G leaned over, with his head in the crook between Papaw's face and the casket pillow, and sobbed, trying his darndest to give his Papaw one last hug.
He then took a tear from his eye with his index finger and placed it on Papaw's heart.
We began to walk to the back of the chapel, and he tried to go to Papaw again, but I explained that we had to leave.
Once G left the chapel, he went up and gave a hug to every single person he saw. Whether he did this for his own benefit or theirs, I don't know. Probably a little of both.
Anxiety can feel like a tremendous burden, but yesterday, I saw how anxiety in my boy makes him so sensitive and empathetic, which is such a gift to others.
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