Problem: Death

Every week Sarah and I talk about what ideas we'd like to share for the day, like what kind of products to review, or what upcoming events sound cool, etc. Sometimes, we run short on those kinds of things. But I swear, the problem of the week just keeps coming (a little too easily for my nerves).

My daughter Emma, 3 years old, has always been great at taking in new ideas, absorbing concepts I think are way beyond the comprehension of a child her age (I know every parent thinks their child is a the most amazing thing on earth). While not the next Einstein, this child is a little different or very weird (depending on how you look at it). So I feel really pressured to keep her challenged and stimulated by telling her as much as she wants to know and in as much detail as she requests.

Thanks to her, I'm learning that answering tough questions is part of the parental territory. From the moment the ultrasound tech said "it's a girl" I started planning the answer to questions like: "when can I wear makeup, shave my legs, date, or have sex?" I rehearsed the answers in my head so when the moment came I would be ready. Besides, I figured I had at least 10 years before any real questions started coming.

I guess that's why I was left speechless when Emma sat on my lap, gently grabbed my chin, looked me in the eyes and asked "Mommy, are you going to die?" I hadn't planned for this one at all, much less at this point in the game. WHAT THE HELL DO I ANSWER? At that point I would have given anything to pause the moment and think of the right answer. Wait, is there a right answer? The only thing I could think of was answer honestly. "Yes, Emma, we all die someday."

The color left her face. "Daddy too?" OH, CRAP! Wrong answer. Too late now. Keep on going, I told myself. "Yes sweetie, but not for a very long time." Her eyes started to well up. "What about me?" HOLY S)&$@!!!! DOES THIS CHILD NOT KNOW WHEN TO STOP? I could barely utter "uh huh." That was it! She could handle the idea of mommy and daddy leaving this earth but her too, that was too much. She just picked up her jaw from the floor and went to her room.

Clearly this disturbed her because later that day she asked Steve the same question. And to her disappointment, got the same answer. Later Steve asks me "what the hell happened, did anyone die?" Luckily we hadn't had anyone or anything (ladybug, mantis or other bug friend) die recently. We asked her teacher at preschool if there was a new lesson on death. Nope.

Emma understood the concept death since about the age of two. She clearly pointed out that the shriveled up earthworm on the sidewalk was "dead" not "sleeping" or "broken."

The only thing I could think of was last November when her great grandmother passed away. We told her that grandma's body was very sick so she died and her spirit went to the stars where she would always feel better. She was happy with this answer and often pointed out a star saying it was grandma shining on us. She specifically asked where the body itself went. "We bury it in a special place called a cemetery and after time the body just turns to dust." Her answer was "O.K., like the compost."

Since November, other friends have died. Shelly, our mourning dove and Wendell Picture, our praying mantis. Both were very sad occasions for Emma, but she would cheer herself up by pointing out new stars in the sky.

I really don't know were to go from here because she hasn't been able to stop talking about death for the last few days. Everything seems to go back to death. "Oh look at this butterfly" has been changed to "How long do butterflies live?"

I feel proud that she is so smart but at the same time I feel sad that this little kid should worry about such a heavy topic. I'm sure I'm not the first to go through this and I won't be the last. I just pray that some new idea will take over her little head because this one is really draining (on both of us).