My daughter turned to me over dinner tonight. Her mouth covered in ketchup having just swallowed another piece of fish and a couple fries. 'Mommy, what's dead? What happens when you are dead?' She looked at me intently. She has very old eyes for a not yet 4 year old. She coughed. A brutal chest wracking phleghm producing cough. 'Well,' I said, 'it's a bit complicated...are you sure you want to talk about this now?' She nodded her head. Of course. So, I broke death down to her in as simple a way as I could. First, I asked her if she remembered the flowers that we planted and then how they shriveled up and 'died' when the weather changed. 'Yes, I know that,' she said, 'but, what about people?' Ok. I gave her 3 options that I have toyed with over the years:
a) when you die, some people believe that your spirit goes to a place called heaven which is a place filled with peace and love. It's kinda like being in your mommy's arms for ever.
b) when you die, some people believe that your body breaks down into nourishment for the soil so that more beautiful flowers can grow;
c) when you die, some people believe that your spirit finds another body to be born into so that one is born again as something or someone else.
I then told her that I wasn't sure what if any of these things was right....that no one really knows for sure. We can only believe. I then asked her if she had any other questions. She shook her head and said:
'Mommy, when I die, I will come back as a butterfly....a purple, yellow and pink butterfly...and I will flap around.'
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