My sweet boys

I was reminded the other day about how well my boys took grandpa's death. The week before: Grandpa and Grandma took them to the pumpkin patch to get pumpkins. My youngest boy was still shy of grandpa. On Friday we had a dinner to go to so we left them with G & G. "L" went to Grandpa and didn't want anyone else. We all laughed that he was finally getting used to him. The next day we had a Halloween party at the church and then after we drove out to see G & G. He climbed on Grandpa's lap and play with him all night. The next day he kept asking for him. I was tired and we had just been there so we stayed home. The next day he asked for him again, and again. Finally I took them out to see him. I had forgotten that it was class night so he wasn't home. I felt bad but thought oh well we will just come back tomorrow. The next morning was the day we found out Grandpa had died. When I got home from the funeral home, I was trying to think of who to tell him the news, after all he was not even 2 yet. I was so sad, I walked in the room and they both just looked at me. I didn't have to say anything, they knew. My sweet little boys could feel it. "L" never asked for him again. "J" would get sick every time Grandma and him were around each other, as if he could feel her sadness and it was to much for him to handle. The night of the viewing, "L" said to us, look at grandpa, he is sleeping in a bed. Night, night grandpa. "j" just cried. It was a year later that "J" came home from church one day and said to me, mom, did you know that Grandpa will live again someday- Just like Jesus!! I cried because he remembered Grandpa! Even now they will tell me of things that they did with him, and ask if I remember. Thanks to my sweet boys, he lives on in our hearts.