I haven’t written about Autumn in a long time, but tonight at bedtime she started asking questions about death and I sort of felt the need to bring a little bit of my girl back here to share with you.
She wanted to know who would bring flowers to our graves if all three of us died at the same time. She was very anxious to know the answer and was near tears as she clutched her Spongebob blanket and asked who would be there to mourn us when we’re gone.
I told her if, God forbid, we were all to die at the same time, all the people who love us would bring us flowers. Then she wanted to know who would be around to mourn them if they all died with us. Apparently our social circle is not the place to be.
This discussion of death led to questions about what happens to our bodies after we die. These are the kinds of questions that trip me up as a parent. I want to be honest, but I don’t want to give the kid nightmares. The other day I told her a certain button on the U-Scan checkout at Walmart was to call security to take away misbehaving kids. I know some day she’ll find out that was a load of crap, but I don’t ever want her to feel she was misinformed when it comes to the really important stuff.
If I was my dad I’d get all clinical and tell her what actually happens to our bodies when we die. Last week he told Autumn that Plankton from Spongebob was actually a paramecium, so I suppose his description of our postmortem existence would involve worlds like “decomposition” and “gasses.” You can take the science teacher out of the classroom, but you can’t ever take the science out of the teacher.
But the kid is five, so I asked her if remembers what food that’s been in the fridge too long looks like and said that’s what happens to our bodies when they stop living. I told her some people are buried in coffins, though I probably could have left out the bit about cremation because that kind of freaked her out. And yes, I did try to talk to her about organ donation since that is a subject near and dear to our hearts.
I probably spent a half hour in her room laying in bed with her answering questions. I could have ended the conversation at any time because I am THE MOM, but I didn’t want to leave. I wanted her to keep asking whatever she wanted and I wanted to be able to answer whatever she asked.
But I’m really glad she never asked the questions I couldn’t answer because there’s still so much I don’t know.
{ 3 comments }
Boy, the tough ones keep coming, Heather! There’s always something our kids need help with…even now the tough questions come and I have grandkids!
Yikes! It’s so hard to talk about. We had a spate of grandparent deaths in our family last year and although my son was only 3 – 3 1/2 at the time it was still weird having to talk to him about it and trying to find that line where he could understand a little bit, but not freak him out.
Especially as we talked heavily about 3 of them going to heaven and being happy and seeing them again one day and then the fourth one was very anti-God. That was a hard one.
You are doing a great job, Mom!!
I love your line about the u-scan button for naughty children. I’m saving that one!!
They ask hard questions.
They grow up too fast.
Enjoy every minute… someday those hard questions and hard answers will become Dining Room Table fodder — like when she has her own 5 year old — and it will all become hysterically funny!
Hugs!
LBC
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