There is a question that my girls ask me on a regular basis. It's a question that I'm not crazy about and I become uneasy about it when they ask. And no, it's not a question about sex or anything related to it. That, I could handle. No, for some reason the question they ask almost weekly is:
"Mommy, when are you going to die?"
I'm not even sure when exactly this started. I do remember Sonya asking me about death and dying one evening, when we in the shower of all places. It was at least six months ago. At the end of her quiz to me she asked me when I was going to die.
"Why, do you know something?" I asked.
She looked at me blankly, not quite getting my joke, so then I told her,
"I don't know when I'm going to die, nobody does, but hopefully not for a long, long time."
That seemed to satisfy her for the time being. Then every once in a while she would ask me the question again. I would give her the same answer, but I did start to get a bit irrited with it. I mean let's be honest, none of us want to think along those lines. Then Lana and Georgia got in on the action. I guess they saw it as a good way to fluster mommy. They don't really get what they are asking me, and I always give them the same answer. None the less, at least once a week we will be in the car going to gymnastics/swim lessons/school/the library, and Lana or Georgia out of the blue will say,
"Mommy?"
"Yeah."
"When are you going to die?" Usually, they ask with a smile and a slight giggle, waiting for my same reaction and response. Sonya, who now understands the question a little better since she's gotten older, will say,
"You guys!! Stop asking THAT! Hopefully not for a long time!"
I know the little girls don't understand what they are asking, but it still makes me squimish. I don't think any of us want to think about when we will buy a ticket for the big party in the sky, but I especially don't want to think about it anytime soon. I've got three little girls to raise, and I want to be around to see them grow up for a long, long time. So my hope is that the answer to their question is the right one. I'm willing to endure their line of questioning as long as it means I'm here to answer them.
"Mommy, when are you going to die?"
I'm not even sure when exactly this started. I do remember Sonya asking me about death and dying one evening, when we in the shower of all places. It was at least six months ago. At the end of her quiz to me she asked me when I was going to die.
"Why, do you know something?" I asked.
She looked at me blankly, not quite getting my joke, so then I told her,
"I don't know when I'm going to die, nobody does, but hopefully not for a long, long time."
That seemed to satisfy her for the time being. Then every once in a while she would ask me the question again. I would give her the same answer, but I did start to get a bit irrited with it. I mean let's be honest, none of us want to think along those lines. Then Lana and Georgia got in on the action. I guess they saw it as a good way to fluster mommy. They don't really get what they are asking me, and I always give them the same answer. None the less, at least once a week we will be in the car going to gymnastics/swim lessons/school/the library, and Lana or Georgia out of the blue will say,
"Mommy?"
"Yeah."
"When are you going to die?" Usually, they ask with a smile and a slight giggle, waiting for my same reaction and response. Sonya, who now understands the question a little better since she's gotten older, will say,
"You guys!! Stop asking THAT! Hopefully not for a long time!"
I know the little girls don't understand what they are asking, but it still makes me squimish. I don't think any of us want to think about when we will buy a ticket for the big party in the sky, but I especially don't want to think about it anytime soon. I've got three little girls to raise, and I want to be around to see them grow up for a long, long time. So my hope is that the answer to their question is the right one. I'm willing to endure their line of questioning as long as it means I'm here to answer them.
1 comment:
That's kind of creepy. I once made the mistake of being overly dramatic when I was sick and saying something like "I am pretty sure I am dying". Lila got all upset and hysterical screaming, "I don't WANT YOU TO DIE!!!" It was pretty awful. I can't wait until the therapy bills start coming in.
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