A Few Things My Children Have Said About Death

Another Baby (Take 1)

Alex is 3, Dominic is 5

This morning Alex crawled on top of me and lay down. Then he popped his head up and asked, “Am I squishing you FLAT?”

“No,” I said. “You’re just squishing me a little bit.”

“Oh,” he said, sitting up and looking disappointed.

“Why would you want to squish me flat?” I asked.

“Because then you’ll DIE,” Alex said cheerfully. “And then I’ll only have a Daddy.”

“Um…” I said, genuinely shocked to hear this coming out of the mouth of the child who wanted to sleep snuggled up against me every night.

I looked at Dominic.

Dominic shrugged.

“I think it’s because of all the sugar he ate yesterday,” Dominic suggested.

Then Dominic turned to Alex.

“Alex,” he said. “You don’t really want Mummy to die.”

“Yeth, I DO,” Alex said belligerently.

“But if Mummy dies,” Dominic said, “we won’t have a Mummy around to have babies. And you’ll never see how CUTE they are.”

“What?” I said, shocked again that this was the best reason Dominic could come up with under pressure to spare my life. “Dominic, do you really think I’m going to have more babies?”

Dominic shrugged again.

“Maybe,” he said, hopefully.

North Korea

Alex is 3, Dominic is 5

This morning both boys wanted to look at the Atlas.

When I opened it up to the world map centerfold, Alex said, “Until we DIE,” and stabbed his finger down on North Korea.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“That ith my DIE PLACE.” Alex said.

“You’re going to die in North Korea?” I asked.

“Yeth,” he said. “I am die in Norf Orea.”

“This is MY die place,” Dominic said, pointing to Iceland.

“It will be very cold in Iceland,” I told him.

“I know,” Dominic said. “I’m going to make a snowman before I die.”

“But wait,” Alex said, starting to look worried. “I want to die wiv Domomic.”

“You can’t, Alex,” Dominic said patiently. “You’re going to die in North Korea, remember?”

Heaven

Alex is 3, Dominic is 5

We had multiple guests in town for most of the school holidays. As a result, Dominic and Alex slept on mattresses in our room for several weeks. When all the guests were gone and I went to relocate Dominic last night, he was less than pleased.

“What are you doing with my bed?” Dominic demanded to know when he saw me moving his mattress.

“I’m taking it back to your bedroom,” I said. “You know, where you normally sleep.”

“Well, ‘unforchately’” Dominic said, “I got used to sleeping here. So now I’m going to sleep here forever. Until I die.”

“Well, we can talk about tonight,” I said. “But you’re definitely not sleeping in here until you die, you know.”

“I def’ly am. Every day I’m alive. Mummy, are we alive after we die? Then I can sleep in your room AFTER I DIE.”

“Um,” I said. “I think we live in a different way after we die. In heaven.”

“I know what heaven is like,” Dominic said. “I know all about it.”

“Really? What’s it like?” I asked.

“Well, I can’t tell you,” Dominic said, looking suddenly furtive. “But I’ll give you a clue,” “It’s all sandy. And there’s a VERY BIG ROCK.”

The Best Mummy

Alex is 4, Dominic is 6

At the end of a difficult today (a day in which Alex was very sick and Dominic had an at-school meltdown, drew on the wall with permanent markers, and stuffed an entire roll of toilet paper down the toilet) Dominic climbed up into my lap, wound his arms around my neck, and pressed his cheek against mine.

“You’re the best Mummy I’ve ever had,” he said.

“Thanks, buddy,” I said.

“I’ve had 21 families before,” Dominic continued. “They’re all dead. Family number one… dead. Family number two… all dead. Family number three…”

“Ummm…” I said.

Dominic took my cheeks in both hands and gazed soulfully into my eyes.

“You’re the BEST Mummy I’ve EVER had,” he said lovingly. “The best of them all.”

Tomorrow Will Be Too Late

Alex is 4, Dominic is 6

I was busy packing suitcases for our trip back to Port Vila tomorrow when Alex wandered into the room.

“We really HAVE to go on the plane TODAY,” Alex said.

“We’re going on the plane TOMORROW,” I said, for about the tenth time.

“But we need to go TODAY,” Alex said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I want to get home before Daddy dies,” Alexe said.

“What?” I said, shocked. “Alex, I’m reasonably certain Daddy’s still going to be alive when we get home TOMORROW.”

“No he’s not,” Alex said seriously. “Because I looked on the map just now, and I saw our house, and I saw Daddy there and he was all broken into two pieces on the floor. Tomorrow will be too late.”

A Bush Made Of Leeches

Alex is 6, Dominic is 8

On the way home from school today, Alex asked me this: “If there was a whole bush made of leeches— no leaves, just leeches—and your head fell into it, would the leeches get on your head and suck out all your blood before you died?“

Eternal Life

Alex is 7, Dominic is 9

Dominic’s mind never stops working, but he rarely asks questions and figuring out what he might be thinking often means guessing. Alex’s mind rarely stops working either, but since neither does his mouth, there’s a lot less guesswork involved.

Before 6:30am yesterday morning—while I was in the shower—I had to field the following questions from Alex: “Where did we put that dead duck we found on the road last week?” “Can the king go to jail?” “Are there ticks in heaven?” and “Do you think heaven is real?”

Heaven has been a recurring theme in Alex’s questions lately, and the subject of the latest worry keeping him up at night.

“Mummy,” he said last night, after he was supposed to be asleep. “I’ve been thinking about heaven, and how the Bible says we live there forever and ever.”

To this, I gave my standard response to deep proclamations that arise after 8pm.

“Mmmm,” I said.

“You know,” Alex said. “Forever is a REALLY LONG TIME.”

“Mmmm,” I said.

“It’s after all the universe falls apart and all the stars go out and all the black holes swallow everything up,” Alex said. “Everything will be dark and cold and full of nothing. I don’t want to live in heaven FOREVER after I die. I really want to be deleted from the universe at some point.”

A Lightening Storm Of Questions

Alex is 7, Dominic is 9

Alex is sleeping on a mattress on the floor of my bedroom tonight, because this room has working air conditioner and I didn’t have the heart to make him sleep hot on this sweltering summer night.

I’ve told him several times to settle down and got to sleep, but as a cozy bedtime chat he’s just hit me with a lightening storm of questions—including all of the following in less than ten minutes…

“Mum, How does it feel to know your life is probably more than half over?”

“Do you feel you have accomplished your life?”

“If you had to choose between 100% you would die but it would be sudden and painless, or 50% you would live but the other 50% you would die a slow and painful death, what would you choose?”

“If me and Dominic grow up and then we were homeless and starving, would you help us?” … “And then would you make us pay you back after you helped us?”

“Hey, Mum,” Alex said. “Just one more question, in case I die in my sleep. How much does it cost to bury a dead person? And, also, how much does it cost to cremate someone? And, also, are there any other options?”

Another Baby (Take Two)

Alex is 7, Dominic is 9

Yesterday, Mike groaned as he maneuvered himself and his recently herniated disc into the car so that we could drive to my parent’s house for breakfast.

“Poor Daddy,“ Alex said. Then he forged on cheerfully. “At least you’re not going to die.”

“No,“ Mike agreed. “I probably won’t die anytime soon.“

“If you did though, Daddy,“ Alex said thoughtfully, “We’d be sad and cry and everything, but then Mummy could find a new man who didn’t have the cancer, and we could have another baby“

Before Mike or I could address this scenario, Dominic did.

“That’s never going to work, Alex,“ Dominic said authoritatively. “It will probably take Mummy a really long time to find somebody else, and they will probably live like a 3 hour drive away. And, anyway, I think Mummy is out of the baby time. So the only way this will work is if Mummy marries another woman.“