“It’s going to be alright.”
Holding Kate’s hand, he was praying to God for guidance and watching his sleeping son curled next to his mother; desperation, frustration, sadness and love beyond measure, the tumultuous emotions of the evening. Those uttered words from Kate the only exception - or addition in his dreams - to the events of the night before and oh, how he wished it were true.
How happy that would make him to be planning her welcome home party rather than her funeral. But that was just the coward’s way out, he thought. It was time to face reality, and part of that reality was when and what to tell Jacob.
Was it right to expect a five year old to understand something his adult brain didn’t? A kid was only a kid once. He couldn’t, didn’t, expect his young son to have the answers to the questions or take on the responsibilities of the adults in Jacob’s life. Putting too much on Jacob was wrong to Wes’s belief.
But on the other hand, if he didn’t tell him ahead of time and waited until he was old enough to understand, would Jacob hate him for not letting him be part of the decision? Were there things he’d be robbing Jacob of doing with or saying to his mother by not giving him warning?
Either way he looked at it, explaining death to his son was hard at any time of year, at any age, but at Christmas doubly so.