Pinewood Derby

"Mama, do you want to feel my scab?," said my sweet, curly-haired little boy. No thanks, I said. I'm eating dinner.


I smiled to myself, wondering if I could have ever imagined such questions at the dinner table about nine years ago.



He was fascinated in watching this little scratch heal. He was often was found checking it out, touching it, or showing it to his brother. I bet, in the midst of it, he was slowing down the actual healing process by his attention to it.

While the every day bumps and bruises heal as they should, whether we pay attention to them or not, we are all still healing in other ways. I can't help but think that the process of healing from the death of a loved one--of getting used to and growing into the grief--isn't really the linear process that is always described. There aren't clear stages that we step through, but rather a jagged, uneven process. Sometimes grief is far from our minds, as we have dinner together or the boys play with their friends or we disappear into our work. But at other times---say the Pinewood Derby--thoughts of Papa come front and center.

Jim loved the Pinewood Derby. He loved it so many years ago, when Stefan was the Cub Scout and he was the enthusiastic parent cheering him on. And--dare I say--I think he loved it even more as a grandparent, giving all sorts of unsolicited advice and providing love and support to Alex through the whole process.

As we left for the Pinewood Derby last Saturday, Alex paused for a moment, and commented, "I really wish Papa was here today."

I do too, Alex. I do, too.

He would have laughed at Jameson being covered in powdered sugar from the doughnuts. He would have talked to anyone and everyone, proudly identifying himself as Alex and Jameson's grandfather. He would have cheered Alex on, whether he won or lost. I could almost picture him there, in that room with us, as he had been during other years.

So, yes. The healing is still happening day by day. We continue to navigate this uneven course of grief, finding comfort where we can in funny memories and good stories.

(Note to self: doughnuts and hot chocolate---not to mention second place trophies--certainly help to ease the anguished souls of certain young boys. )