Last week on the way to daycare my son suddenly started telling me that he wanted to send a letter to Oma and Opa. Now, there would be nothing unusual about this, except that he was talking about my husband’s parents, who have passed away and he never met them.
Actually, first he wanted to skype with them (we did that the day before with some of our Canadian friends). I suggested to write a letter instead and send it up to the clouds with a balloon. (Whenever we discuss that someone has died we say they have gone up to the clouds.) He insisted that he wanted to skype with them up to the clouds. I tried my best to explain that Oma and Opa had to leave their body behind in order to do that. I was saved from further why’s and how’s by the fact that he was distracted when we had to ran across the street…
I remember a time when my son would keep asking whether he or other family members had to die. He would get rather upset and start crying. In the meantime he has moved on to firmly stating that he will stop that from happening.
But during one of those discussions when he was starting to tear up again I managed to come up with this:
Yes, we all die one day. But when you love someone very much they stay with you. In your heart. Always.
At that moment the truth of this struck me. I know it is obvious, but we don’t get many moments to reflect on death as we stumble through life, trying to cope with what is right in front of us. It often baffles me how close to life and death children are. The way my son lives in the moment and is completely absorbed by what he does.
I am striving to enjoy my time more. Savor it. Life is beautiful.