Talking to Toolman

December 28, 2012

On Tuesday, January 2 around noon, my dad, aka Toolman, died. 

While my dad did not have good health, this was unexpected. He had his annual pneumonia-type symptoms in mid-December, but there was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary, based on his medical history. We still don’t have a cause of death, but this post isn’t meant to deal with that, but how we dealt with it with the two lights of his life, Owen and Sophie. 

From Christmas day:

Toolman had a special relationship with both. Sophie and my dad would whisper into each other’s ear, something that Sophie only did with my father. He’d nuzzle up to her ear and whisper/blow lightly, and she would light up. She didn’t let out big laughs or have a huge grin—just a happy, content smile that she was sharing a special moment with my dad. Then she would do the same to him.

Owen’s relationship was deeper, being older, sturdier and so on. When he got into Cars he assigned all of us favorites, and Toolman was of course Mater, a rusty old tow truck. Whenever Owen came over, my dad would “fix” Owen’s shirt, pulling the back bottom up over his head. They’d go swimming with Wally (an inflatable dinosaur). During football season, there was our “Go Giants!” catchphrase, and when he was wearing his "72" shirt, Owen would tell my dad how to pronounce Osi Umenyiora. Owen would give my dad high fives so hard, my dad's hand would stick to his head, and only Owen prying his arm away could get it off. My dad was his supplier of hotdogs and egg noodles, pancakes and corn muffins, Arby's and french fries.

But the biggest connection was that Toolman was the toughest guy Owen knew.  Just a few days ago, we were explaining to Owen (again) that he always needed to be gentle with Sophie—she never reacts well when Owen is even slightly rough with her. So we made a gentle-rough scale, with Sophie at the bottom (1), then Nana (4), Grandma (5), Joanne and Grandpa (15), me (50) and Toolman (80). I started Owen on the tackle hugs and he’d do that to my dad while he was sitting in his chair. Owen would come running at his top running speed and jump into the chair, and it wouldn’t phase Toolman at all.

We decided my mom would stay at our house Wednesday night, and Joanne was insistent we have a plan to tell Owen the news when he got home. We reviewed info on the topic (it seems like there’s one source that then underwrites all other advice pieces), and went with the direct approach—that Toolman died and we wouldn’t see him anymore.  Joanne brought him home from school, and told him Nana was at the house, and he asked Joanne if Toolman was there too. When he came in, he was excited to have Nana there. We told him that we had some sad news and had him sit.  We explained to Owen that Tooman died and went to heaven and told him that if he had any questions we would answer them.  He saw that we were downcast, and his expression matched ours. We asked him if he understood what we had said, and he said he did. He didn’t have any questions at that time, and he soon bounded off to get his cars and talk about the Lemon cars he wanted to get for his birthday (a normal reaction according to what we had read).

That night Joanne put Owen to bed, and he said he had a question.  He asked that if Toolman was in heaven, who would be Daddy’s Dad.  Joanne told him Toolman will always be Daddy’s Dad, and also asked “do you know how Toolman and Nana’s parents were already in heaven?”  Owen started to ask “So does that mean that Toolman…?” but he seemed not to know how to finish the question.  Joanne told him “Yes, Toolman is now with his Mommy and Daddy.” But that wasn’t all:

After I finished reading to Owen, I turned out the light and told him a story (as usual).  When I was finished, he, of course, asked for another story.  I told him no more stories, but if he wanted to say a prayer, we could.  I told him that now that Toolman was in heaven we could pray to him.  He asked “I thought only God could hear our prayers?”.  I said we could ask God to tell Toolman something for us.  I asked him what would you tell Toolman?  He then whispered “I love you”.   

The next morning, he picked out some older socks that he doesn’t wear often anymore (they’re small) that had footballs on them (his USA puzzle has a football on the state of Ohio, and even though Owen knows my parents are from New York, he referred to Ohio as Toolman’s favorite state because of the football on it). I asked him if he picked them out randomly or on purpose. He said twice “I picked them.” 

I think he understands. 

Owen demonstrating the "fixed" shirt

Owen's First football game, Nov 20, 2012

Thanksgiving 2012

September 2012

Super Bowl Sunday 2012

February 2012

September 2011

May 2011

April 2011

Christmas 2010