Substitute

Written by RJ on January 10, 2014. Posted in Coleen, Healing, Loss

I am a replacement babysitter for the girls. A substitute. Coleen used to watch them on Friday mornings so Lindsay could go to work. Coleen always liked going there and it was good therapy for her. Those granddaughters, “The Girls” as they are usually referred to, were very special to her and she was a wonderful grandmother. It was a perfect role for her. When she went there, she spent most of her time reading to them or playing games. I’m sure she did a lot of teaching and telling stories. I know that her visits were food related because almost everything Coleen did had a food element to it. She was on and off different diets and would usually take food from home with her wherever she went. When she saw the girls she brought extra so she could share with them. Those girls are always hungry.

Coleen’s maternal grandmother was named Kitty and she was quite a character. Coleen had a very strong bond with her. Kitty liked to gamble and play board games and tell stories to the kids. She was around a lot for the holidays and family parties and sometimes we would just have her over for dinner. Coleen would just decide and ask me to pick her grandmother up on my home from work. I never met her paternal grandmother, Rose, but Coleen would often reminisce about visiting with her as a child and spending quite a bit of time with her. They read, cooked and talked together. Coleen always had a very, very strong sense of family and her grandmothers played important roles in her life.

She carried on that tradition with the girls. Everything she learned from her own relationships was transferred to her new role. Plus much more. Coleen was very loving and affectionate with her granddaughters. She didn’t get that from Kitty or Rose. That was something different she brought to that role. She was a wonderful grandmother and would have gotten better with age. I’m certain of that. I have stated before that the single thing that gets me the most riled and pissed about Coleen’s death is that those girls got robbed of her as a grandmother and will never experience that magic Coleen would have spun on them. And not only does that make me angry, but it makes me very sad. It’s one of the things that causes the most emotion in me. It always has. I was surprised a few days ago when at my Hospice bereavement session with my counselor Lynn, she got me to admit that to her. I started talking about the relationships death stole from Coleen and those innocent girls. I wasn’t surprised that Lynn got me to open up about it. I was surprised that I didn’t cry. Don’t get me wrong, I felt like it and my chin quivered and my eyes watered. Lynn could see the emotion I felt without having to see the tears. She knew what I was feeling and what I was saying.

I know that I am trying to make it up to the girls for Coleen’s absence. I can’t replace her and I can’t be her, but maybe I can keep her fresh in their minds and talk about how much she loved them. It’s part of my role as grandpa to them. And today when I was there, I did some things that may not have reminded them of Grandma, but certainly reminded me of her. Like when Claire crawled into my lap with her blanket and a book and I read to her. I saw Coleen right there with us smiling. And when I peeled an orange for Claire just like Coleen used to do for her when she came over. And when I patiently watched Samantha make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich by herself, I could picture Coleen there instead of me, gently assisting without Samantha even knowing she was being helped.

Coleen was with us for a while this morning. I felt her strongly early on, shortly after I arrived. Probably making sure I was there on time and the girls had plenty to eat and were behaving for us.

Trackback from your site.