In the past few months two wonderful people that I saw on a regular basis, but did not know very well have passed away. A coworker of mine, Steuart, who was an angel who left the earth way too soon, but whom Charlotte did not know, and our lovely next door neighbor Neil, an elderly gentleman whom Charlotte knew by name and would say h to and chat with for a minute on our way from here to there. Each of their passings has led to many discussions with Charlotte about death and dying. I was not prepared for these talks and I am still unsure that I am handling it properly. She tends to think about things for a while and asks questions at very random times. I try very hard to answer any questions she has openly and honestly while remembering that she is still a preschooler and may not want as thorough of an answer as I may think. We are not a member of any organized religion and therefore I try to give her a few different perspectives when the questions get metaphysical. In answering some of her questions I realize how strange and possibly frightening some things may seem. Such as, "So, what happens to your body after you die?". "Well, some people put the bodies in a box and bury it in dirt. Then they put a stone up to mark the spot so they can visit the spot to think about the person who died." (ok, this seems like this may be slightly creepy, but so far so good), "Why do they bury people in dirt?", "Well, you are not in your body anymore after you die, you leave your body. And your body, well... You know how we have talked about compost, and how the food and paper we put in the compost turns into soil to make new flowers and plants? Well, your body turns into compost, so some people bury it in dirt to make new flowers and plants. Other people turn the body into ashes and sprinkle them somewhere nice" Luckily, she did not want to know how we go about turning people into ashes.
I tend to say "well..." a lot in my explanations to Charlotte to give myself time to think, think, think like Pooh bear. So, I think she is processing this and she will every once in a while just say something in passing about Neil's being dead. She also thinks about his wife sometimes. "Mommy? Rita lives alone now, right? Because Neil died. That's ok though, because Rita will get married again." Here's to hoping, Charlotte.
The other night I was putting Charlotte to bed. This entails reading her few books in bed and then (in her words), "lying with her for a while or two". We were lying in bed snuggled up together when she starts to play with my earring. And the following conversation occurred:
"Mommy, when are you going to take your earrings off?" (she has asked me to take them off a few times before, but tonight I figured I would try to get to the bottom of this line of questioning)
"I am probably going to keep them on a long time. I like to wear my earrings and forget to put them back in when I take them out. Why do you want me to take them off?"
"I don't want you to die with them in" (aww, the poor kid is worried about me dying...wait, that's not quite what she said...)
"Why don't you want me to die with my earrings in, Charli?"
"Well, because someone may want them."
"Someone may want them? Who is someone?"
"Someone like me" (jackpot, so evidently, the kid is not worried about me dying, she is worried about me getting buried with my diamonds on, great)
"Don't worry Charlotte, you can have my earrings even if I die with them on. Feel better? Good, let's go to sleep."
