We went out to a gathering of my work colleagues on Friday. It was generally enjoyable. But there was a conversation that has been eating at me.
"Is this your parents' first grandchild?" she asked. The woman who sat with her husband in the pew at C.'s funeral.
I didn't know what to say. So I chickened out and answered, "Yes."
Trying to turn the conversation I mentioned my husband's nieces.
"So this is [your husband's parents] first grandson?" asked another woman. The woman who wrote C.'s obituary.
I nodded half-heartedly.
They were trying to be nice. They put up with me gushing on and on about BB for 3 hours. They were just trying to make conversation.
But why couldn't they remember that BB is NOT our first child? And choose their words accordingly? And why couldn't I muster up the courage and find the right words to gently remind them about our perfect son C.?
So, from now on, when someone asks me if BB is the first grandchild, I will say "C. was their first grandchild and BB is their second." For my sanity.