Sometimes You Gotta Take It Off the Shelf

Me:  Why are you crying?  
(no answer)
Me:  #3...you do not need to go to bed upset...you'll wake up tomorrow upset.
(still no answer, but he gets up and goes to the mirror so he can look at me through the mirror)
Me:  #1 and #2...leave the room so I can talk to him.  
(they leave...#3 starts sobbing)
Me:  What is wrong honey?

#3:  They don't understand.  My best friend gave me this football and I don't want them to touch it.  My friend means the world to me and so does the gift he gave me.  

Me:  Follow me...

I lead #3 upstairs to where my collection of porcelain dolls are.  These dolls are so very special to me.  My dad used to travel a lot and one time when he came home, he brought me a doll.  I LOVED it...and from that point on, I got one every special occasion (in our house that meant birthdays/Christmas).  One year we got a piece of furniture to display them...and they're still in that today.

Also in the doll case is a special doll from my grandfather.  We called him Papa John (and yes, he DID make the best pizzas).  He never bought gifts...he left that up to my grandmother.  Well, one special occasion, he had a present for me.  Everybody was a little shocked.  I mean, this man bought nothing, but yet, he bought his granddaughter something.  I opened this doll and was in love.  The had beautiful red hair in two braided pigtails, a flower and polka dotted dress, a doily for her hat, and her face was drawn on.  Nobody had a clue as to why he bought this for me, but I was so excited and named her Christina.  I slept with Christina a lot as a kid.  And then one day, Papa John had a massive heart attack and was in the hospital for three days.  I hugged that doll like I was hugging him every night since I wasn't allowed to see him in the hospital.  And then, three days later, he died.  I remember sobbing and sobbing...and I remember the funeral and the millions of emotions that I felt throughout it.  And then I put Christina in the doll case.

I don't take Christina out of the doll case.  I've put her in a box when we've moved and when I open the box, I reminisce about Papa John, but she goes right back in there so she doesn't get hurt...so no one will touch her.  She's special...just like all those dolls from my dad.  But tonight Christina needed to tell a story.  As I held #3's hand as we walked up the stairs, I felt my heart pounding.  I opened the doll case and sat in the chair beside #3...

Me:  This is Christina.  She's very special to me because my Papa John gave her to me.  

#3:  Why?

Me:  He gave it to me as a gift.  He loved me very much and I love him and this was a gift.

#3:  Just like this football.

Me:  Yes.  Your friend gave you that football and that football reminds you of your friend.  And some things that are special, we need to put up, but sometimes those special things need to be played with.  

#3:  Like my football?

Me:  Do you think your friend would want you just to carry that football around and never play with it? 

#3:  No.

Me:  He gave it to you to enjoy.  Right?

#3:  Yes.  So maybe I should play with it with my brothers...
...throughout this conversation, memories are flooding my eyes.  I watch #3 treat Christina with such delicacy.  He looks over her hair and clothes and hat.  He rubs her face where the drawn on marker eyes and mouth are so faded that she's almost faceless...

#3:  May I sleep with your doll that Papa John gave you tonight?  

...my heart was pounding out of my chest.  Of course I don't want him to sleep with her.  She's priceless, she's the only thing my grandfather gave me.  Seriously child, I need her back in her doll case after this conversation.  But as I look at #3's big eyes red from crying and I hear his sweet voice asking, I think about Papa John...and I realize that maybe this was from him telling me that he gave me that doll, not to be put up in a case for no one to touch, but for a moment like this...a moment that ended a meltdown, a moment that I could tell that story for a reason...a reason when my child would listen because he needed it....

Me:  Yes darling.  You may....

...being a mom isn't easy.  Dealing with meltdowns is heartbreaking for all of us.  Sometimes memories aren't pleasant...but sometimes you realize that maybe Papa John gave me that doll almost 30+ years ago because of this very moment.  The very moment to calm #3 and for me to realize that I can't just put memories on a shelf.  But whatever the reason, I do know that God has His arm around Papa John right now looking down on us and saying "they're are doing pretty good in Our Life by Numbers"!