Saturday, May 21, 2011

May Long

It's Victoria Day here in Canada on Monday (as in Queen Victoria) and Canadians celebrate the current Queen's birthday by spending a long weekend doing yard work, going camping, drinking beer on patio or a combination of all three. Being a depressed, anti-social mom to a preschooler, who is also ttc, means that my options are limited to yard work. Luckily we do have a yard. We spent most of today painting our fence and preparing to have 2 dying trees removed from the back yard. D loved painting with us and actually can slap enough paint onto a fence to help a little bit. It was hard work (my arms and hands are whining, loudly) but we spent the day together as a family and if the world had ended today as predicted by some, then really, it was a pretty good way to spend my last day.

Tonight at supper we were trying to explain to D that she is our daughter. (She is working on understanding relationships beyond who is a mommy or daddy to a specific child.) She seemed to understand that she is my daughter but then she said "Daddy is your son". I corrected her and said that Daddy is my husband (even though there are times when he leaves clothes all over the floor and I feel like his mother) and Reid is my son and we went on to talk about how everyone is somebody's son or daughter, even when they are babies and when they are grown up. The topic changed a little but then she suddenly said,

"I promise to to not die Mommy and Daddy, not ever, ever, ever."

What could I say, except for, "I really, really hope not sweetie." I can't tell my 3 year old that everyone dies someday, I can't scare her like that. She already knows that babies die, I don't want her worrying about mommies and daddies dying too. I'm sort of proud that she is already kind enough to not want to make us sad the way Reid's death has, but really she shouldn't know about of any of this at all.

7 comments:

Missy said...

Heartbreaking. I wish she never knew what death was until she was much older. Much love mama~

LauraJane said...

What a sweetheart. I remember the concept of death being so terrifying as a child (it still is, but you know what I mean...). I wish you didn't know this experience first hand- wish none of us did.

Womb Raider said...

have no idea what to say except you are the best mommy ever!

Jeanette said...

My goodness, those words from our little ones are so hard aren't they?
She sounds like such a sweetheart.x

Maria said...

What a sweet little girl! It's hard for us to hear things like that from our children..... but on hearing things like that.... I actually realise that children are much better at understanding things better than adults.

This is a conversation I had with my 4 year old:

- how are we suppoed to get to the cemetary
- by car
- but cars can't fly to get to the sky
- we're not flying..... we're going to the cemetary.... we don't need to fly
- ohhhhhhhh I get it..... we take flowers to the cemetary ....Thea smells the flowers and she comes down to see us!

Well there you go..... what an explanation to a highly complex situation.

Hugs
Maria
x

Elaine said...

For me I think that was one of the worst parts about losing Blaine, having to explain it to our daughter. After the initial shock wore off in the hospital the first thing I said to my husband was "what do we tell Abby" She was 5 when we told her (we actually waited a month or so to tell her). Having a 5 year old know so much about death and cremation is a tough one. I wish I could have protected her more. I like to think that this type of experience will make her more gentle, more caring, more understanding as an adult. She won't be one of those adults who make stupid comments after a baby dies, she won't stop calling a friend because she's uncomfortable. She'll know what to say and what to do because she's been in that family.

butterflymom said...

All I can really say is "Wow!" So heartbreaking...but touching at the same time. I'm sorry that D has to know that babies die...I'm sorry that any of us does. Sending hugs to you and your family always.