Amy seems a bit preoccupied with death these days. Not sure where it’s coming from, but she’s mentioned a few times that she doesn’t want to die. She isn’t very upset when she talks about it, she says it rather matter-of-factly. My response has been that she’s not going to die for a very long time, and she’s got a lot to look forward to. That seems to satisfy her.
Then this morning when Amy was eating breakfast, both my mum (who is 78) and I were in the kitchen. Amy asked how old Mum was, and Mum told her. Amy’s response was: Wow, you’re old. You’re going to die soon aren’t you? Mum and I burst out laughing. As I write this down I’m thinking that perhaps you had to be there…
Thankfully my Mum was not offended in the least, and Amy, in her typical fashion, quickly moved on to something else.
But it’s an interesting feeling, as a person who is quite terrified of dying (and would rather just forget about it), to be talking with my four-year-old daughter about death. I mostly think about it at night, and my fear comes from the sheer inability to imagine myself not being here.
I’ve talked to my Mum about it over the years, and learned that she felt the same way as me (I’m sure we are not alone). But she says as she grows older and more tired, she is less afraid. Not sure I’ll ever get there, but I hope to.
Nice subject matter to send myself off to bed with.