What to Tell the Children

The next day, after we got up, we came downstairs; and in the living room, Grandma and Pop were waiting for us. Pop said to us, “Your mom needs to talk to your sister and brother, so Debbie, why don’t you come with us back up to the farmhouse?” So I took Grandma’s hand, and the three of us walked up the lane. I loved spending time with them, so it didn’t matter to me that my brother and sister weren’t coming with us. When we got to the farmhouse, Grandma started to cook me some pancakes, which she knew I loved.

Mom talked to them about what had happened to their dad, and she told them I was too young to understand. She told them she would tell Debbie when they found your dad. Then she asked them if they would go up to the farmhouse for their breakfast. “You guys will be staying up at the farm for a few days,” she said. So they took the bags Mom had made up with our clothes and headed to the farmhouse. When they arrived, breakfast was ready for them. I had finished eating and was outside with Pop, helping him collect the eggs to bring into Grandma to clean up. He had a working farm with cows and chickens. He delivered both milk and eggs to people on the island. After the eggs were collected and brought to Grandma, I would go outside and play with the cats. They were there to work on the farm, but I didn’t really understand that. To me, they were my friends. The feed for the animals attracted rats and mice, so he had a lot of cats on the farm to keep them under control. We stayed at the farm for a few days, and Mom came up for dinner every night. I loved it because I had everyone with me whom I loved. I loved it so much, my mom tells me. I didn’t really understand where Dad was, but it was okay. As the days passed, I stopped asking when Dad was coming home.