Kado, being two months old, will have no memory of Pa. Hopefully, that last picture of the two of them together will be as meaningful to Kado someday, as it was to Pa on the night it was taken.
Famke thought of Pa as her own little audience. "Watch me, Pa!", she would say, and then pause while she thought of something REALLY impressive to do for him. He LOVED her favorite phrase, "I DO IT!", and if any of us tried to aid him in any way these last few weeks, he was quick to quote her and tell us plainly, "I DO IT!".
At the funeral home, Famke could not quite grasp what was going on (actually, neither could i). Together we watched the video that the funeral home had put together. In it was a picture of Daughter, Jonge, Famke and Kado with Pa. She turned from the video, looked over at the casket and said, "C'mon Pa!"
Jonge is having a much more difficult time. Jonge is the age my dad was when he had his first encounter with death. Daughter and Son-in-law have been doing their best to explain death to him. Jonge had seen Pa in the hospital in the past, noticed the addition of oxygen, seen all of the needle marks from blood draws up and down his arms, and refered to my dad as Pa With A Cane. The cane has been passed on to Jonge.
Just a week before my dad died, when we knew that he would never pull out of this one, I asked Jonge and Famke if they would like to talk to Pa on the phone. I told them that Pa could not hear very well and that they would have to talk loudly. They were both excited and eager to talk to him. The call was a success. My dad was thrilled to talk to them. He could hear them both very clearly. I'm glad he could, because they both got to tell him that they loved him.
Monday, Daughter was talking to Jonge about how we were going to go to the funeral home to say good-bye to Pa.
Jonge ask her, "Will we have to say it loud?"