fic: some things about grief (bingo prompt "first time")
title: some things about grief
prompt: first time
summary: grandma ida knows it can take a long time to grieve. she just kind of wishes she knew what to do in the meantime.
notes: things i couldn't really make fit: corbin's parents (his mom was grandma ida's youngest) died in a car crash when he was four, and harley's parents split when he was two. he hasn't had any contact with his mom or her family since, and as his dad was kind of estranged from his own people, harley doesn't know them either.
Ida Lowe Corbin knows some things about grief. She has buried parents, siblings, her husband, and her youngest daughter. She knows. She knows people express it in different ways. She knows people deal with it in different ways. She knows it takes its own sweet time.
And she knows no fourteen-year-old boy should have to suffer it for his father.
It is eleven days since Harley Coleman's father's funeral, and twelve days since Ida took custody of him. Harley is her grandson Corbin's best friend. His father joined the Army Reserve, and before he shipped out for Iraq he made arrangements with Ida to take care of his son.
He planned for the worst at the same time neither he nor Ida expected it to actually happen.
And now, eleven days after his father was buried, Ida is beginning to wonder if Harley will ever be ok. He hasn't said a word since the funeral, and while he was always a quiet boy, his teachers and his vice-principal have started to consider this a problem. Two days ago Ida suggested that Harley write to his father and burn the letters so the smoke would reach up him up in Heaven. She thought it might help.
He seems less contained now. Less like he's walking inside a bubble.
But he still isn't talking.
And Ida isn't sure what to do. She loves Harley as if he were her own, and she knows Corbin loves him like a brother, and it will have to do. But still, she worries.
It is late now, so late the boys should be in bed, and she goes into the den where she can hear the TV to tell them to turn it off. They are curled up together on the couch, unselfconsciously, like puppies, and they are both asleep. Harley is already six feet tall and still adjusting to his growth spurt, and it looks as if Corbin is lying half on top of him to keep him from falling off the couch and landing on the floor.
And for the first time in nearly two weeks, Ida can honestly believe that everything will be ok.
prompt: first time
summary: grandma ida knows it can take a long time to grieve. she just kind of wishes she knew what to do in the meantime.
notes: things i couldn't really make fit: corbin's parents (his mom was grandma ida's youngest) died in a car crash when he was four, and harley's parents split when he was two. he hasn't had any contact with his mom or her family since, and as his dad was kind of estranged from his own people, harley doesn't know them either.
Ida Lowe Corbin knows some things about grief. She has buried parents, siblings, her husband, and her youngest daughter. She knows. She knows people express it in different ways. She knows people deal with it in different ways. She knows it takes its own sweet time.
And she knows no fourteen-year-old boy should have to suffer it for his father.
It is eleven days since Harley Coleman's father's funeral, and twelve days since Ida took custody of him. Harley is her grandson Corbin's best friend. His father joined the Army Reserve, and before he shipped out for Iraq he made arrangements with Ida to take care of his son.
He planned for the worst at the same time neither he nor Ida expected it to actually happen.
And now, eleven days after his father was buried, Ida is beginning to wonder if Harley will ever be ok. He hasn't said a word since the funeral, and while he was always a quiet boy, his teachers and his vice-principal have started to consider this a problem. Two days ago Ida suggested that Harley write to his father and burn the letters so the smoke would reach up him up in Heaven. She thought it might help.
He seems less contained now. Less like he's walking inside a bubble.
But he still isn't talking.
And Ida isn't sure what to do. She loves Harley as if he were her own, and she knows Corbin loves him like a brother, and it will have to do. But still, she worries.
It is late now, so late the boys should be in bed, and she goes into the den where she can hear the TV to tell them to turn it off. They are curled up together on the couch, unselfconsciously, like puppies, and they are both asleep. Harley is already six feet tall and still adjusting to his growth spurt, and it looks as if Corbin is lying half on top of him to keep him from falling off the couch and landing on the floor.
And for the first time in nearly two weeks, Ida can honestly believe that everything will be ok.