Explaining cancer to a three-year-old is, well, not easy. Maxton knows Grandma is sick and that her chest hurts right now. Early last night, Mom made the mistake of telling him she’d show him her drainage bag (hand grenade, as she would call it). I can’t remember why she said she’d show him–it might have been to explain to him why he couldn’t roughhouse around her.
Later, as we were sitting on the back porch, he came up to me and said, “I have to ask Grandma something.” I told him to go ahead. He climbed up behind her and said, “Grandma, what about the bag?” For a while we couldn’t figure out what he was talking about–we were celebrating Carter’s birthday, and he was a little bummed that his brother got a lot of presents–maybe that was it.
Maxton was getting frustrated because we didn’t know what he meant. Finally, he lifted up his shirt and said, “Grandma, you know the bag? You said you’d show me.” We laughed, and Mom showed him the bag. “I want one,” was his response. We smiled and told him he didn’t really want one, but my mom, being the giving Grandma that she is, promised to make him a bag of his own.
I just hope that my son doesn’t want to walk around all summer with a “bag” under his shirt so he can be like Grandma.
Thank you, Grandma for being so giving. If you can’t muster up the energy to make him a “bag”, I promise I will forgive you 😉