So RR is putting together the pieces of our family puzzle. These folks are cousins. These folks are her mamas’ sisters. Granny and Pop Pop are mama’s mom and dad.
The other day, she said to me in a big revelation, “Granny is mama’s MAMA!” I said, “Yes, she sure is!”
Then she paused and said, “Granny is not your mama. Who is your mama, mama?”
SIGH. Big fucking sigh.
As if that wasn’t awkward enough, she followed up with, “Is Pop Pop your daddy?” I said, “No, he’s not.” Which she then retorted, “Well, we’ll call your daddy Pop Pop!” I said, “If he were around, he’d probably like that.”
And then she tootled off without anymore questions, and that was that.
The last time my sister visited, she dropped off a bunch of old pictures for me to sift through, including a lot of pictures of my parents (oddly enough, none of them both together… but whatever). I suppose it might be a good idea to pick a few out of my parents and put them somewhere where RR can see them. I have a few of my mom with RR, which is great. But, the most recent picture of my dad is circa 1989. I think the only family picture I have of us is this old, tattered (but scanned) one below. I’m what… two? I can probably dig up something more recent of him.
I don’t think this requires any big prayer meetin’ (as my mom would call it) for explanation’s sake, but having them around would certainly make me feel a little less like an orphan some days, and would make other days where these questions come up, a little easier to answer.
Explaining to her that I totally have parents is one thing. Explaining where they’ve gone off to is another.