Tuesday, July 26, 2011

First Conversation on Death

Yamee woke up crying and so I rushed to breastfeed him. Yakee, still awake, suddenly asked out of the blue: "Mommy, will you be dead on Wednesday?"

And this is how our conversation went:
Me: What?
Y: Will you be dead?
Me: You mean, will I die?
Y: Yes.
Me: Yes, I will die. In time.
Y: Why?
Me: Because everybody dies. All living things die.
Y: Where will you go?
Me: Hmmm... hopefully heaven.
Y: Wy?
Me: Because I want to go there, but not anytime soon.
Y: Will I see you with the glass, like the lola?
(amazed na he's only now talking about the wake we went to over a month ago)
Me: You mean, will you see me in a coffin, and you'd look at me through the glass, like the dead lola?
Y: Yes!
Me: Well, yes. I will be in a coffin too. Hopefully, not soon.
Y: What will dead you?
Me: You mean, what will kill me?
Y: Yes, what will make you dead?
Me: Maybe a disease. Hopefully, old age? And hopefully, not yet anytime soon.
(long pause)
(incoherent words)
Y: You will not be dead with guns?
Me: I hope not baby.
Y: Why?
Me: I really hope to just die of old age. I don't want to die from guns. That would be a terrible way to die.
Y: Yes (and makes firing actions and noises)
Me: I hope I won't die yet. I want to see you grow up.
(pause again)
Y: What made the lola dead?
Me: Oh, the lola was sick, died from a bad heart. And I think, old age too.
Y: What made the lola sick?
Me: Her heart was old so it got... (struggling to find words he'd understand) broken.
Y: Broken?
Me: Well you see, baby, hearts are like batteries. When they run out of charge, they won't work anymore. So, a person will die.
Y: Why is the lola old?
Me: Because she lived many, many years.
Y: What number of years?
Me: She lived past 80 years. You have only lived almost 4 years. So, the lola... she's lived a loooooooooong time.
Y: Where did she live?
Me: In their house in QC
Y: Why?
Me: Because that's where she and her family lived.
Y: Who is her family, what are their names?
Me: I don't know their names, I only know my friend's name. Rolly. Now, go to bed and sleep Iakob. Yamee cannot sleep because we're talking. We can talk about death some more tomorrow.

It felt morbid talking in the dark about death... and I am superstitious enough to wonder, what if my son felt something (premonition?). But all in all, at least i've managed to gauge that he's still not yet scared of the idea.

And talking about death didn't make me feel uncomfy... now, let them start asking questions about sex... and i'm sure i'd UHM my way through the thing. Haha.

1 comment:

Jhan said...

Kids really asks lots of questions.

Great job! You've handled it well.