Driving Home

Yesterday when driving home from school, we had to drive by the house my father grew up in. It is a tiny little thing in the middle of a set of row houses, number 4307 and 1/2. Sadly a couple of years ago the house had a fire and it's been unoccupied since. The windows are boarded up and the mailbox with its Steeler sticker remains empty. That doesn't stop my 5 year old from asking if we can drive by though. She wants to see the house her Grandfather grew up in and she wants to see it often. Yesterday she said "Wouldn't it be great if Dzadi (that's what we call him. I believe it means "old man" in Polish but I have no proof of that) still lived there. That way we could stop by and see him all the time. Sadly he smoked." She even said that word, "Sadly". It was funny and touching all at the same time. My daughter's name is Maeve and she is here in large part because of Dzadi. She never had the chance to meet him, he died before she was born. At the time my oldest, Emma, was 18 months old and I just never saw myself having another child. But as I struggled through that year my dad had lung cancer I came to rely on my brother in ways I never expected. And I was so grateful to have him to share the experience with. What a gift he is. And I thought that my child deserved to have a sibling. someone to understand her in a way no one else ever will. I hope they will treasure each other. And I know that this may take time.