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“Go to it, kiddos,” Mimi says, clapping her hands joyfully.
With her permission, the children tear into the festively wrapped presents to find toys and games and books and a new outfit for each of them.
I’m in tears as they’re showered with love by a woman who’d never met them before today and never would’ve known them if it hadn’t been for multiple tragedies.
“You’re amazing,” I tell her. “Thank you so much.”
“Shopping for them was the most fun I’ve had in years,” Mimi says softly.
GAGE
SeeingIris and the kids fit right in with Mimi and Stan has me battling my emotions throughout our first evening together. It’s all so familiar and yet unfamiliar, too. Nat and the girls were never in this house, but it still feels odd to be with Nat’s parents without her and our daughters there, too.
I knew Iris and Mimi would hit it off and be great friends in a matter of hours. They’re very similar in that they give everything they’ve got to the people they love. But watching them laugh and talk and even tear up a little has my heart doing all sorts of crazy gymnastics.
Life is so fucked up and crazy and wonderful and terrible all at the same time.
My gaze shifts to the photo of Nat and the girls in the living room. I took that photo on a trip to California, and it was one of Nat’s favorites of her and the twins. In my mind, I’m already writing about introducing my new girlfriend and her children to my beloved in-laws. I refuse to refer to them as my former in-laws. They will never be that.
I’ll post about this strange and beautiful gathering at some point this week. So many of my widowed followers will relate to the struggle to carry on in the aftermath of enormous loss, to do justice to the people we’ve lost while living every minute we have left to the fullest with the people who remain.
I help Iris corral the excited kids into the shower and pajamas. I supervise Tyler while she handles the girls.
“How do you like my friends Mimi and Stan?” I ask Tyler as I hand him his pajama shirt.
“They’re awesome!”
“Yes, they are.”
“How do you know them again?”
“They were my wife’s parents and my daughters’ grandparents.”
“Oh. Right. You must’ve been so sad when they died.”
“So, so sad.”
“I’m not going to die, am I?”
“Oh, no, buddy. Not until you’re an old man.”
“How do you know? Your little girls died.”
“That was a tragic accident that never should’ve happened. You don’t need to worry about that happening to you.”
“My daddy died, too.”
“I know.”
“I’m still sad about that.”
“You probably always will be.”
“My mom isn’t going to die, is she?”
“No, Tyler. She’s not going to die.”
“Okay.”
