Morbid.

Juliette has been fascinated with Death lately. Her first experience with death occurred when her fish died; she noticed one day how few there were in her tank, and asked me if, when the rest of the fish died, we could get a rabbit. Or maybe it was a cat. Or a bird. In any case, at that point she didn’t really have an understanding of what death was, only that there used to be 10 fish and now there were only 6.

She began to understand a little bit better last year when my Nonnie passed away. I told Juliette that Nonnie was very old and she went to be with God in heaven. She accepted this explanation with a thoughtful expression but without much comment. Every once in a while, though, she mentioned Nonnie; she would talk about how Nonnie was very very old and that she went to be with God.

Quite often lately, she’ll ask me “Mom, will you stay with me forever?” And I always respond “For my whole life, Juliette. ” and then we hug and she grins at me, and sometimes she will tell me “Good, because I love you so much.” before she continues with whatever she is doing.
A few weeks ago, she started commenting that when I got old I would die and leave her alone but it would be okay because she would be a grown up and she would be a mommy and have her own house. I always respond to this the same way: “Yes, but not for a very very long time.”

It makes me shiver a little every time the topic comes up. I want to cross myself and say a quick little prayer to Saint Whoever You Pray To At Times Like These. It is hard, when you become a parent, not to think about death; from the doctors visits during your pregnancy when you eagerly wait to hear the heartbeat, and a small part of you is afraid that there won’t be one… to the piles of literature you get at the hospital about protecting your newborn baby from SIDS… to all the warning and hazards you discover as you walk around the world as a protective new parent. Jungle gyms become death traps; swimming pools are an absolute nightmare; food items have to be cut into the tiniest pieces and gumballs seem like they were invented by an insane person with a choking death wish; you can’t even buy a sweatshirt with a drawstring on it because it is a strangulation hazard and you decide that you don’t need to have your cleaning supplies in such easy reach because a little dirt isn’t as harmful as all those chemicals. I wonder how my own mother handled all the stress. I wonder if I need therapy, or maybe medication. I wonder how I lived my whole life until now so oblivious to it all.

I know it is natural for Juliette to be curious about it, and I am grateful that so far she has dealt with the topic very well. But today… Today in the car she took it one step further.

We were listening to the music from the Go Diego Go Live tour on my iPod through the car radio. She pointed to the iPod and asked, “Mommy, when you die, can I have that? Because I’ll be an adult then.”

I’m glad her fears of death and abandonment are not keeping her awake at night, but I did not think that this would be the progression of things. I told her that she could indeed have my iPod- unless she wanted to get her own before then, because this one would be so old. To which she replied “Oh. OK.” To which Cosette piped in: "I want one too!". Great. They are already fighting over who gets my stuff.

Fortunately, my love is endless, and that is one thing they can keep forever. For the rest of my life, and for the whole of theirs.