How Did He Die?

My 6 year old was flipping through my wedding album this morning when she stopped on a picture of me with my father.  She studied his smiling face for a long while, a face she doesn’t know. I held my breath for a moment, knowing what was coming next.

“Is this your dad, mom?”

“Yes, dear, it is.”

“Was he in the war?”  (Her Opa was in Vietnam, her great grandfathers in WWII. )

“Yes, honey, he was.  He was a pilot in Vietnam.”

“Oh…is that how he died?”  She looked at me with these sad eyes, ready to mourn for her dead grandfather.

“He’s not dead.”

“Oh, then where is he?”  I hate this question.  They all ask it.  They all wonder why they have a grandfather they’ve never met. 

“My dad decided that he didn’t want to be married to your Grandma any longer, so they got a divorce.  Then he fell in love and married another lady.  She already had children, and he decided to be a part of her family instead.  He’s still alive; he’s just with his new family.”

She sat for a moment and thought of this.  I sat and thought of all the things I wasn’t saying: the hurt feelings, the tears, the drama of the past, the pain….and I waited.

“She must be a really beautiful and nice lady if he chose her instead of us.”

Yeah……must be.