Profound statements often come out of my seven year old's mouth when he's bathing. He starts floating in the water on his back... his hair spanning out from his head, where the ideas start knocking around like the last 30 seconds of a bag of popcorn in the microwave.
"Mom, I don't want you to die."
"Mommy's not going to die for a long time... you don't have to worry about that," I respond, trying to brush past the subject. How am I going to explain dying and age to a boy who has yet to lose all his teeth.
"Am I going to die Mom?" He does not let the subject go. "Not for an even longer time than mommy bud." "Besides we're all going to be together in heaven... so you don't have to worry about dying."
Pop...pop...pop. The barrage of questions starts filling my son's head. "Will we have a house like this in heaven? I like this house... I want everything the same as it is here... Can I be hockey player in heaven? Is there ice in heaven? What age are we in heaven? Is Santa Claus in heaven? Will our fish be in heaven?"
I am in no way qualified to answer these questions and frankly do not know the answers to half of them... but, I muddle through... "We don't get old in heaven...heaven is better than here... because it's perfect and you can get everything you want. And I'm not sure about the fish."
He stares back at me with bubbles on his head... doubtful. "But, I like everything the way it is here. I don't want anything to change." More tears...they are streaming down the bubbles.
"I don't want you and daddy to die mom. Is grandmum going to die too?" I weigh my answer. He pretty much thinks grandmum is invincible, so I don't want to touch that with a ten foot pole. Who knows... maybe she will live forever.
Bath time is a little late this evening, and he's in no frame of mind to excavate the mysteries of the afterlife. The mysteries are becoming more apparent to me as well... I haven't thought this deeply about death ever...Do I lie to make him feel better? How do you tell a tired, dripping wet and confused first grader how we're all going to die and live happily ever after in a place called heaven? More tears.
"What is making you think about this bud?" He shrugs..."I just love my life so much," he sniffles. He doesn't want to lose the people, things, and routines he loves so much. It's his little slice of heaven. And he wants no part of the actual whole pie that he knows nothing about. No way... no how... He likes his bedtime routine, his fish, his letters to Santa that he is still sending him via the Iphone app, and his baths. Heaven is no comparison. I try to relay what I think I know about heaven. "There are streets of gold, mansions, angels." "God is there. You get to really be with God!" Nope... he's just fine with him living in his heart.
But, he dries off, wipes his tears and changes the subject, leaving me more confused than him. He got all his questions off his chest and goes back to living in the moment. I wonder about that slice of heaven. He's living for today, not a better tomorrow. I think I'll take a slice.
