Through the Eyes of a Child

I was 4 when my Grandad Snyder died.

I have had many other significant losses in my life since, but he was the first for me.

At 4 you don't realize what it means. You don't really understand anything. You are too young to think about the extreme depth of loss.

Sometimes I wish I was 4 again.

At 4 you don't question everything. At 4 you live a life of hope and love by nature. You are innocent.

I watch Riley right now. She is about the same age as I was. She feels this loss deeply, but yet, with such a child's view. She and Dad were best buddies, she has lots of fun memories of him. From the start, they were bonded. The feeling was mutual.

What she sees is my pain. My deep sadness at this loss. The tears that come out of nowhere. The memories that make "me talk like that." She says that I talk quieter and my voice sounds funny. We talk a lot about it. She says things that throw me for a loop, she says things that scare me. She says things that cause me to cry.

But it is because she loved him. And she loves me. And the last thing she wants is for me to continue hurting. But she doesn't understand. She doesn't know what it all means yet.

I wish I could harness some of it. Some days I do. I try to see it through her eyes and take the time to remember the happiness. The fun. The love.

If I was still a child, maybe it wouldn't feel so empty where he used to occupy my world. Maybe I wouldn't wish for just a minute that I could feel him with me. Maybe that ache in my heart would be smaller. Maybe I wouldn't be searching for my new role in life as a "girl whose dad died."

I know that I can't go back to childhood. I just wish it was not so sucky being an adult. Knowing what the death of someone means doesn't make it easier. It makes it that much harder. I can't change it.

So I think what I will do is hold my baby and see it as she does. I will remember that there is always hope, always love, always laughter. Even through the tears.