Today we held a funeral for Jojo complete with flowers, a song - "You are my sunshine" - and about 1,000 mosquitos as uninvited guests. Then, Liam popped the question - the one I, at 34, am still not even close to comfortable with.
"We're not going to die, are we Mom?"
"Yes, everyone dies - animals, plants, people."
"But when are we going to die?"
"We don't know - but most people live a nice, long life and don't die until they get very old?"
"Are Jerzy and Paula (who are, oh, 40ish and in better health than anyone I know) old?"
"Noooo, your great-grandparents are old."
"Are they going to die?"
"Someday."
"But why are they going to die?"
"I don't know why - maybe because our bodies get tired."
"But what happens when we die?"
"Well, different people believe different things - some people think there is a place our souls go after our bodies stop working. Some people think we come back as someone else. Some people don't believe in any of that."
"But I don't want us to die."
"I know, hon, but we can't do anything about it. The only thing we can do is live each day as well as we can, and just don't waste it."
"Oh. Can I have a cookie?"
"That's not exactly what I meant."
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