Tough Conversations

We sat at the table, just the two of us, and she turned to me. Mommy? I don't want people in the world to be dead, she whispered. In less than a second I wanted to scoop her up, cover her with kisses, and tell her that people don't die and that there's no reason to be afraid or sad or anything that might weigh on her shoulders.

But, as unprepared as I felt, my heart steadied as I told her that it's okay, and every one dies, and even though no one knows for sure, Mommy and Daddy believe in God and because of Him will we all be together again in heaven.

And when she looked away from me and mumbled, I'm not sure if I believe that, I wanted to shout, "It's okay! I'm not sure either! But somehow it's okay. I promise." Because even though I believe, I sometimes, too, have my doubts and fear that after death there is nothing, and then in the next moment I fear the wrath of God, immediately begging His forgiveness so I'm not damned to all eternity.

We talked quietly and she climbed up on my lap, telling me that our conversation was making her feel sad, but even when I asked her if she wanted to talk about something else, she said no. I tried to reassure her that she and I both have a long time before we die (even though I know there's always a possibility we don't, I didn't think at five-years-old she was ready for all of that), and how important it is to enjoy now and be happy together.

Long after our conversation was over it sits heavily with me, knowing that there will be many more conversations that catch me off guard, that I don't feel knowledgeable enough to speak about, that I don't want to mess up and leave her struggling and more confused than when we began.

I only hope, that as we both continue to grow, I can give her and her sister the tools they need to navigate this world.

xoxo,
Christine