The Death of Grace

Earlier this year, my husband and I were supposed to go to a concert with a group of friends, but I happened to fall ill. We had paid for the tickets and scheduled a baby-sitter, so my husband was very bummed that we wouldn’t have a chance to at least spend some time together.

Despite feeling nauseous and light-headed, I told Grace, the sitter, that we would still be in need of her services. Although our date to Paradise Bakery, sharing a Southwest Chicken Caesar Salad, was short-lived, upon our return, our children were all smiles and inquired about Grace returning in the future. Apparently, she had taught them games and “all kinds of fun stuff”. We thanked and paid Grace.

We had planned on seeing Grace the following day, at church, as usual, but we did not. My youngest son was frantic after church, but I had no idea why. After some silence on our way home, I heard him whisper, “Mommy, I know where Aunty Grace is…”

“Aunty Grace died,” and at that very moment, he burst into inconsolable tears. The young woman who he had played with the night before and had assumed he would see the next day was nowhere to be found. Of course, in his little mind, it all made sense…I guess.

Panicking, his two siblings started asking what had happened to their beloved Aunty Grace. Each had his/her own question an scenario they started throwing out. What began and seemed “oh…how cute” became, “Oh my gosh…where did they come up with this? This is crazy!”

I tried several times to assure them that Aunty Grace was just fine. She was probably tired and at home, but Ezra repeatedly shouted through tears, “NO, MOMMY; tell us the truth! She died, and you don’t want to tell us the truth!”

Frantically, as I approached the freeway, I searched for my phone and attempted to call Grace in vain. I proceeded to try calling her two younger siblings, but I couldn’t reach them, until my second attempt, when I was able to reach her younger sister.

I quickly explained what was going on and asked where Grace was. Apparently, she had gone to Florida early that morning for an internship and had failed to mention she would be leaving so soon. Hearing the children in the background, she could tell they needed a proof of life. She promised to take the lead and keep trying to contact Grace.

When Grace was brought up to speed, she was told how important it was for her to speak to the children, especially Ezra.

Reluctantly, he reached out for the phone and heard Grace’s voice but became upset and returned it, stating, “That’s not Aunty Grace!”

After sending a photo of herself via text and sending voicemails, etc, he finally started coming around. He sat quietly, with the phone in his hands, all cried out, as he looked at her picture continuously.

Months later, I asked what had caused him to react that way, and he replied, “Mommy, we saw her on Saturday night, and on Sunday, she was gone from the stage. When people go away from us without telling us, it means they died. People should always tell you if you won’t see them for a long time, a really long time. I was just sad; it’s all.”

So now, every time Grace visits, she goes out of her way to let Ezra know that she’ll be leaving for a long period of time. She also ensures she sends pictures of herself from time-to-time, and she’s never too busy for a call from him.

This incident made me realize once more just how much children are hearing, listening, and absorbing information, whether or not they are able to process it. With two church members who had died just months before and an uncle in critical health, I could totally understand how he came to that conclusion. For weeks afterward, we made ourselves available for his random questions regarding death and the afterlife. Sometimes I still wonder at what particular point in time the leap to such a morbid conclusion occurred and what other strange things run through children’s minds in general.