Learning Loss

For a few weeks, Squishy's paternal grandfather was in the hospital.  The gnome was quiet about it, until one day he had Squishy hand off the phone, and told me some things that weren't true about his diagnosis, but said that he probably wouldn't last the week.  

And I was a bit upset that he wasn't telling her.  She should know what's going on with family members, especially in harder situations like that.  She should have had time to mentally sort it out.  While the gnome's mom had passed away a few years ago, they had never met or spoken.  Squishy had regularly seen her grandfather, even if he didn't really know how to interact with her.

The gnome eventually said that he had tested positive for Covid, which I could tell from what he had been saying previously.  Two days later, he passed away.  I made sure the gnome was the one to tell her, because he shouldn't have to dump that on me like he does everything else.  And then I had to take on helping her process her first real loss of family.  She wasn't doing terribly well, despite Oliver standing on her head, until she had a call with a friend to keep her from overthinking on it.

And oddly enough, this hit me.  Where most deaths I am fairly easy with, this one got to me a little.  Not because I missed him, but more because with this lockdown, I can't see the people I care about, and if something happened to them, or if they did get the virus, there would be very little I could do to help.

It makes me angry.  That there are people saying this is over, and to open back up.  That this whole thing is fake, or a scheme, or whatever other bullshit.

They can tell that to my eleven year old processing death for the first time.  While they may be less likely to have severe symptoms, they sure as hell are affected by this just like everyone else.