This isn't really about being a mother the second time around, but I had to write about it. "T" did the sweetest thing last night, and I just want to brag.
I had to cover the civic center's annual gala for the newspaper, so my aunt and cousin were keeping Tessa for a little while until my mom could get her. Today was Decoration Day at the church I grew up in and also tomorrow is my Granny's birthday, so my aunt wanted to put flowers on our family members' graves. They went yesterday to do that to avoid today's rush.
So, they get there and put flowers on Granny's and Papa's grave, then to my uncle's. My cousin told "T" that this grave was my other cousins' daddy's. "T" asked "A" where my daddy's grave was.
I didn't grow up with my father in my life. I had my stepfather, and I knew about my dad, but I never saw him from the time I was three until I was 15. After that, though, we became as close as we could with all the baggage between us. I loved him and forgave him, in spite of all that.
So, "T" knows I had two daddies and that one of them is in Heaven and that he died a long time ago (almost nine years now). So, when she asked, my cousin showed her. His grave didn't have any flowers on it (which isn't surprising, don't get me started), and "T" said, "That's so sad. He doesn't have any flowers on his."
So, "A" got some flowers from her mom and put them on my dad's grave. Of course, I broke down in tears as soon as I found out. Maybe it's because I'm already emotional, but I think it was very sweet.
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