The Death of Granddaddy Jenkins

Introduction to Only-Me, Mommy Moments:

Things happen to me that happen to absolutely no one else. And, they happen all the time. In an attempt to find other people like me who seem to suffer from the Only-Me Syndrome, I thought I'd share some of my experiences that have happened with my children. Following is Only-Me, Mommy Moment ONE:




The Death of Granddaddy Jenkins

It was a day just like any other. Well, sort of. I arrived at day care to pick up my daughter at 4:30, a little earlier than expected, but not much. Things were normal...until, that is, the day-care director (who happens to be one of my very best friends) rushed up to me, hugged me tightly, and whispered in my ear,  "If there's anything I can do, let me know. We've been praying for you all day."

"Thanks? I guess?" I didn't know what else to say. If you really wanna know the truth, though, I was without a doubt certain that Harlan had done or said something. I just knew it. But before I could ask the question I find myself asking a lot there, which is, Oh dear, what did she do this time?, *Brandi said, "She told us about Granddaddy Jenkins."

"Oh, she did? OK." Brandi just looked at me in disbelief. "Yeah, that was really sad." Had I been too dismissive?

"What can I do for you? What do you guys need?" She's always so generous, and on this day, her voice was soft and full of pain.

"Well, continue to keep us in your prayers," I said. Brandi's a pray-er. She is, and I knew that once I said this, everything would be OK, and we could go home.

"But, are you guys...OK?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Harlan's totally OK. She wasn't really fazed by it. I'm actually surprised she talked about it here. It's Leo who's really sad. He's the one who found him."

Brandi immediately burst into tears, which she does a lot. She's such a sensitive soul, and I love that about her. I just don't get it. That's not me. "Brandi, it's OK. Really." At first, I wondered how the tables had turned; how had I become the one consoling her? This wasn't adding up; I could tell by the look on her face that things were not what they seemed to be. I was missing something. So, I asked the question that I should've asked first: "So, what did Harlan actually tell you?"

"During prayer time, when asked by her teacher if there was anyone we should pray for, Harlan said, 'My Granddaddy Jenkins.' Her teacher said, 'Harlan, is your granddaddy sick?' And, this is what she told us":

"No, my granddaddy isn't sick; he's dead actually. Yesterday, when we didn't have school, he bled to death in the snow in the front yard. My daddy thinks he was shot in the neck. He even walked around and asked all of our neighbors if they knew who shot him.Well, Mommy doesn't think he was shot really; she thinks he was attacked and just laid down in the snow to die. Because he's our granddaddy, we wanted to bury him, so we carried him around to the back of the house and buried him under the tree beside the lion statue. Can we still pray for him?"

I started laughing hysterically. At this point, I realized that there were just a few words I could say that would clear it all up: "Brandi? Granddaddy Jenkins was an outdoor cat...OK, more like a neighborhood cat really."

"SHUT UP!" she said. I love it when she breaks out of director mode and just talks to me like the 16-year-old girls we are at heart.

I started to walk away from the church that day, laughing out loud to myself, feeling good about the fact that the women who care for my daughter really do care for her and for my family as well. Something stopped me before I got to my car, though. I had to go back in.

I walked into Brandi's office and said, "So...what I really wanna know is, why didn't you guys call the cops...or at least me at work?"

"Huh?" She was still in fun friend mode.

"I mean, if you thought Harlan's granddad was shot, attacked, whatever, in the front yard, and we dragged his dead body to the back where we then buried him...seriously, shouldn't you've been concerned?"

"Well, let's see, how do I put this, Friend? Let's just say, we know Harlan. We thought she made that whole part up."

"Fair enough."

"We know you both have vivid imaginations."

"True dat," I said and walked away with her shaking her head at me, just like usual.


*A name has been changed because she would kill me, even though she totally expects me to write about her and our misadventures.