DAD LIBS

A LESSON IN GRIEF

We all process loss in our own ways.

In late December, my father-in-law Gerald passed away after a long battle with Alzheimer’s disease.

I’m grateful we were able to see him on Christmas Eve, and say goodbye to him in a special and meaningful way. We spent the afternoon outside just laughing and holding his hand. Remember how warm it was? My girls gave him a blanket, a neck pillow, and some things he could squeeze. Gerald could barely keep his eyes open, but he knew we were there loving on him. He even managed a smile as we told him he was loved.

It was time. He knew it, and we knew it. My wife Annie had been helping her mother Cheryl day in and day out for months, not knowing what the future would hold or how long this could possibly go on. Alzheimer’s is a cruel and mysterious diagnosis. While we are sad, it’s a blessing that he was released from the scary grip of dementia and confusion. Life goes on I suppose, and in time Cheryl can get back to the things that bring her joy — activities like sewing, swimming, dining out with friends, traveling, and more. I have no doubt that it will be hard considering she was married for more than 58 years. I think it’s important to remember that when someone is grieving, they should be allowed to mourn in their own way and in their own time. Many times, family and friends subconsciously or otherwise make it about themselves instead of the person who is navigating their own grief.

When we had the funeral, a graveside burial in Jackson, Tennessee, I performed three songs — “Amazing Grace,” “You Raise Me Up,” and “Be Not Afraid.” I practiced each song every day for two weeks, and even though I was confi dent in my playing, I still choked up and had to dig deep to get through it. I loved how every family member had a part to play at the funeral. My wife read a poem, and her brother Rob handled the eulogy. The grandchildren all placed fl owers on the casket. What I will remember most is my daughter Ella writing a book of poems about loss and grief for her Grandma Cheryl. Over Christmas she was given a book-binding set, and she used it to create a beautiful set of prose. One of the poems is simply called “Grief.” “Grief is a feeling of sadness most people say, but actually it does not have to be that way. Grief is mostly used when someone you love passes away, but sometimes you won’t feel sad, you will smile at a memory of the person you love. Sometimes you will feel sad and empty and alone. You may feel confused, unsure like a dream that you can’t escape from, and grief might never fully melt away, but you will feel a di erent feeling of grief every day.”

Wise words from a 10-year-old girl, if you ask me. Ella’s beautiful words moved her grandmother and her family in a big way, and I’m grateful she took pen to paper to mark down how the death of her Granddaddy Gerald made her feel — a lesson in grief I will always cherish.

Funerals are weird. Grief is weird. Life is weird. But we all have to go through it in our own ways and should give the loved ones around us the space they need to process the change in their own ways and their own time.

Rest in peace Gerald Wooley.

Je Hulett is a freelance writer, musician, and PR consultant in Memphis. He lives in the Vollintine Evergreen neighborhood with his wife Annie, two girls Ella and Beatrice, and dog Chalupa.

WEATHER OR NOT

Riding out the storm with grandkids.

Photo (left): Jon W. Sparks Photo (above): © Mrtwister | Dreamstime.com

There’s nothing like an ice storm to test the relationship between grandkids and grandparents.

The infamous weather smackdown we went through in February was a fine example, with folks having to deal with falling trees, icy roads, closed schools and daycares, and power outages lasting days for many of us.

Most parents still had to report to work, so the kid shuffle was in full force throughout. Families were sorting out who could drive, who didn’t have electricity, who was sick, who wasn’t quarantining, and who didn’t have massive tree limbs puncturing roofs.

And it must be said that the children were of absolutely no help at all. Maybe you could get older ones to pick up some twigs, but they were useless when it came to wielding a chainsaw. (And who could blame them? Have you ever read the instruction manual that comes with a chainsaw? On every page you’ll see multiple warnings in bold red type with an alarming number of exclamation points. Years ago I bought one, read the manual, put it all back in the box, and hired someone to handle the job.)

Furthermore, you couldn’t let the children play in the snow because, well, there was no snow. There was plenty of ice, some on the ground where they could slip and break their precious little heads, and some on the trees that could break limbs that would fall and break their precious little heads.

We figured it would be good to get a fire in the fireplace, which the grands absolutely love. Because it’s fire! You get to teach them principles of safety that have to cover handling of flammable material, dealing with logs (real or storebought), reaching inside the (dark and cold) fireplace to find the flue damper, and trying not to scream when you grab a handful of cobwebs. You must set an example of calmness.

If your house is power-deficient, then you have to bundle your bundles of joy while also keeping them from opening the refrigerator to stare for minutes on end at the melting ice cream bars. Nor can you plop them down in front of the TV to get a few minutes of peace. Nor can you set them in front of the computer, unless you have a laptop with finite battery power that will use your phone’s hot-spot, which drains not only your iPhone but piles up the cellular usage charges. If you’re lucky, however, there might be a cool-looking fireball on a transformer across the street that will bring forth the fire department. That might qualify as the day’s best entertainment as you look out the window, point, and shiver.

It’s possible that along with the children, you’ve also taken in some pets, and again, the grandkids are pretty much useless. Maybe the older ones can fill the water bowl and scoop some food, but you’ll be the one following the excitable dog around the house hoping to keep it from knocking over the china, and looking after the old hound keeping it comfortable. And will those adorable grandbabies mop up the doggie pee in the kitchen? I think not.

But if you don’t have any power from MLGW, you still have the power of being grandparents. And the old-style diversions are still the best, like everyone getting in the bed with plenty of blankets and singing songs, telling stories, reading books, and looking at family pictures. Baby it’s cold outside, but your babies will be all warm and snug enveloped in love. Still, spring can’t get here soon enough. 