on death....

I am still unsure as to how children perceive death and dying.  I personally don't believe in the concept of heaven where the dead are reunited with their loved ones partying it up on a white cloud somewhere in the ether thus this is not how I explain it to my children.  When they were wee, I would explain it as it's like a time out that lasts forever.  Now that Jake is older he understands the concept of the heart stopping, blood no longer flowing, brain shutting down, blah blah blah.  He sees dead animals on the side of the road and totally understands they 'ain't never coming back'.   Jake, my old soul child, gets it.  Maiya, however, being 3, and perhaps ever hopeful, thinks she can raise the dead.  With dead plants or flowers she believes that if she just sticks them in fresh soil and gives them enough sunlight, water, and love, they will flourish again.  Yesterday when I picked her up from preschool she noticed a huge dragonfly plastered on the grill of our truck.  She started sobbing and for the next hour she was inconsolable.  She kept crying "The dwagonfly.  He is dead!  He wasn't careful and didn't push the cwosswalk button so he got hit by our twuck and now he is deeeeeaaaadd!"  And she continued to wail this heartbroken song and I must say I didn't know what to do when she wanted to put him in a jar and take care of him to make him better.  I suggested we bury Mr. Dragonfly but she just looked at me like I was being ludicrous.  As in why-on-earth-would-you-do-that-when-I-can-fix-him.  I couldn't explain to my Maiya-Mew, that dead is dead and this bug's energy has moved onto someplace else.  As to where? Who the heck knows?  So like all good mothers I suggested ice cream and tv.  No and nope.  She was having none of it.  So into a nice bath we both went to wash away the tears.  It is during these moments I want to reach out and tell all my friends and family how much I love them because there will come a day we won't be part of this realm.  I think about my parents especially, who, like the rest of us, one day will die.  When that day comes I am sure I will be broken, and down on my knees because no matter how 'grown up' I am, I will still and always be their child.  And every child needs reassurance that their parents will always be there for them to make things better.  Especially in times of sorrow and need.  Which is why at bedtime, I welcomed Maiya, her eyes puffy from crying and hair still damp from the work of her tears, into my bed and let her sleep on my chest like she did when she was a newborn.

God help me when I take the kids camping next month.  I don't know how many bugs' lives are going to end up on the windshield......