The other day, I was going through my daughter’s backpack. Don’t worry, she’s only in Kindergarten, so I wasn’t searching for paraphernalia. I mean, I don’t want to be naive, but I think it’s still too early for that, right (thank goodness)? I was making sure her binder was cleaned out, and that there weren’t any smashed banana guts hiding out in the crevasses of the pen pockets. I also wanted to see what artwork she’d been working on.
This is when I came across my favorite piece of artwork so far.
My daughter’s been learning to draw pictures that tell a story. Her teacher says that the more descriptive her drawings are, the better her storytelling and creativity will be when it comes to reading and writing. I’ll buy that.
I pulled out a drawing. I counted the smiling stick figures looking back at me. Well, technically they were kinda looking off to the side, but you get the gist. 1-2-3-4…5! There were five people in her picture. This was clearly a picture of our family. Mom, Dad, Bree, Matthew…and Chase. Yes! She had remembered to draw in her older brother!
Was this in fact her depiction of our family? Who knows. I actually think one of the figures was scribbled out (I know, kinda sad, right). But to me, in that brief moment, it was our family.
There are so many times in grief, when numbers are tweaked and names go unsaid. So when the opportunity presents itself, to hold onto the proverbial full picture, I jump at the chance.
This moment, was for me. I mean, they say that art is often open to interpretation. Which is exactly why I didn’t ask my daughter about the picture. It would have been super deflating to hear her explain that it was a drawing of her friends on the playground, or maybe she didn’t even draw it. Maybe her “kissing buddy” at school gave it to her (don’t worry, I’ve confirmed that they haven’t actually kissed; I’ll address this issue later).
The last thing I want is to try and steer her in any direction along what should be her own personal path with understanding death, grief and her older brother. She knows who her older brother is. Or at the very least, how much he means to her mommy and daddy. And that’s what we can show her. What it means to love unconditionally.
And unconditional love extends well beyond a piece of paper and some stick figures. Five beautifully drawn stick figures.
5 Essentials to Rediscovering Your Joy After Loss
Heartwarming ?
I love the way you look at things.
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