What a Freakin' Day
So, today is the day my kid puts 2 and 2 together. For months we have been talking about how living things die. Toys don't die. Tables don't die. Televisions don't die, but dogs and cats and people do. Today he figured it out in the middle of a play date.
"MOM! I DON'T WANNA DIE!!!!"
Rip my fucking heart out. Especially since I just can't lie to him and tell him it won't ever happen. He found absolutely no solace in the laws of physics nor did he want to except that death is just a part of life and isn't necessarily a bad thing. He wasn't buying it.
So I took him to McDonald's.
While chowing down on food that will most likely hasten our demise we had a nice long talk about death and dying- much to the chagrin of the people sitting next to us. A Happy Meal tends to lose its luster if you are in close proximity to a four year old who is demanding to know when he is going to die and wanting to know if there is any way around this whole death thing. After a while, I just felt like slapping him. Okay, Dude, I get it. You don't want to die. Tough shit. You're gonna. You're gonna die and you're gonna like it just like the rest of us! Now sit down and quit your whining!
Well, really, how much of the death stuff can a gal take? My kid can wallow like a pro. For hours he would just sneak it in there.
"Mom, I love you."
"I love you, too, sweetheart."
"Why do I have to die?"
Like I did it to him. Well, I guess I kind of did. I mean, I dragged him on to this stupid planet and now he's got to die. His friends were trying to cheer him up with talk of heaven and God and whatnot which is so simple and child friendly. What do I have to offer him? Laws of physics, some mumbo jumbo about souls and signs of order in the universe, and an admission that I really don't know what happens when you die and that I don't believe anyone else knows either. Some fucking comfort I am. I'm choosing to allow my four year old to stare into the abyss and challenging him to make sense of it even though I can't. Isn't that child abuse?
The thing is, I'm very comfortable with my own mortality at the moment. (That is apt to change) I am not stressed about not understanding all the mysteries of the universe. I don't need to figure them out. I enjoy thinking about my place in the universe, but I'm not driven to uncover a truth I don't believe I could fully understand. But he needs answers, comfort, and certainty! Do you have any idea what I told him?
"We are all going to die someday. That day, for you, will most likely be a long time from now because you are healthy, have a relatively safe environment and do not engage in risky behavior, so chances are you won't have to worry about dying for a long time. But, if you want to talk about different ideas about death we can do that, but you have to accept that no one really knows what happens after you die and that's okay. Death is only one part of living, and if you're lucky you'll do it well but it is probably better to focus on living or you might miss the good stuff."
Dude, if I was four, I'd stare blankly at me then run away crying too.
"MOM! I DON'T WANNA DIE!!!!"
Rip my fucking heart out. Especially since I just can't lie to him and tell him it won't ever happen. He found absolutely no solace in the laws of physics nor did he want to except that death is just a part of life and isn't necessarily a bad thing. He wasn't buying it.
So I took him to McDonald's.
While chowing down on food that will most likely hasten our demise we had a nice long talk about death and dying- much to the chagrin of the people sitting next to us. A Happy Meal tends to lose its luster if you are in close proximity to a four year old who is demanding to know when he is going to die and wanting to know if there is any way around this whole death thing. After a while, I just felt like slapping him. Okay, Dude, I get it. You don't want to die. Tough shit. You're gonna. You're gonna die and you're gonna like it just like the rest of us! Now sit down and quit your whining!
Well, really, how much of the death stuff can a gal take? My kid can wallow like a pro. For hours he would just sneak it in there.
"Mom, I love you."
"I love you, too, sweetheart."
"Why do I have to die?"
Like I did it to him. Well, I guess I kind of did. I mean, I dragged him on to this stupid planet and now he's got to die. His friends were trying to cheer him up with talk of heaven and God and whatnot which is so simple and child friendly. What do I have to offer him? Laws of physics, some mumbo jumbo about souls and signs of order in the universe, and an admission that I really don't know what happens when you die and that I don't believe anyone else knows either. Some fucking comfort I am. I'm choosing to allow my four year old to stare into the abyss and challenging him to make sense of it even though I can't. Isn't that child abuse?
The thing is, I'm very comfortable with my own mortality at the moment. (That is apt to change) I am not stressed about not understanding all the mysteries of the universe. I don't need to figure them out. I enjoy thinking about my place in the universe, but I'm not driven to uncover a truth I don't believe I could fully understand. But he needs answers, comfort, and certainty! Do you have any idea what I told him?
"We are all going to die someday. That day, for you, will most likely be a long time from now because you are healthy, have a relatively safe environment and do not engage in risky behavior, so chances are you won't have to worry about dying for a long time. But, if you want to talk about different ideas about death we can do that, but you have to accept that no one really knows what happens after you die and that's okay. Death is only one part of living, and if you're lucky you'll do it well but it is probably better to focus on living or you might miss the good stuff."
Dude, if I was four, I'd stare blankly at me then run away crying too.
posted by Bree O'Connor at 3:35 PM
1 Comments:
Next time he tells you he doesn't want to die you culd just tell him to study hard and join one of the many research groups studying longevity in the hopes of finding a way to avoid death.
Or you could stay the course. "You WILL die!"
Or you could tell him that when he reaches his teen years he'll wish he were dead. And then life gets much, much worse.
Happy New Year!
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