Some Questions Have No Real Answers
My son and I were sitting in a CVS parking lot last Friday afternoon waiting on my husband, when I started asking him about his day at school. He responded with his usual ramblings…Garrett did this…Owen did that…we ate pizza for lunch…oh, and we talked about why God takes people from us.
I asked more about the last statement he revealed. Ethan talked about how God decides when it’s time to die and that as people get older it’s just their time to go to Heaven. I agreed with him and then came a question that I was not prepared for.
“Stephanie was young, so why did God want her in Heaven right now?”
It’s hard to know what to tell a 5 year old when it comes to death. I’ve struggled with that immensely. He’s so young and impressionable, that I certainly don’t want to scare him. Afterall, it is my job to protect him.
My earliest memory of death was in second grade when my grandfather passed away. I’m not sure I totally understood it then, but I accepted the fact he was gone from our daily lives. My exposure to loss after that was minimal and in a way naive. I was shielded from grief until I was much older.
Ethan has already been faced with more trauma than any child should be exposed to. After all, he still recites vivid details from the car accident when he wasn’t quite 2 years old. I often forget that the tragic ordeal didn’t just happen to me, because sometimes memories can be more hurtful than injuries. From the backseat he saw more than I did.
Nine months after that accident, we buried my cousin (his God-mother) and my grandmother. He doesn’t talk about their funerals or any specific details, but there are moments when he’ll ask a question or make a statement that leads me to believe he does remember.
I explained as best I could, with tears forming in my eyes, that sometimes people get sick and they get so sick that God can’t even help them get better. So, instead of letting them suffer and be in pain, He brings them to be with Him. And although it’s hard for us because we miss them, we know they are watching over us and we’ll see them again.
Then came something I will never forget. Ever.
“Mom, I’m glad that when that lady hit our car and it spun around and you were hurt so bad, that God didn’t decide you needed to go to Heaven then. I’m sorry you miss Stephanie, but I’m glad we have an angel looking over us. She won’t let you get hurt again.”
I wasn’t even able to respond. There are times when Ethan has such an insightful heart, that I know he will go on to serve this world in a capacity beyond my expectations. (Even if he does pick his nose and eat it.)
Just because they’re 3 feet tall, we sometimes forget how much they really listen to and see.
He’s one astute little boy.
Wow. Kids are so amazing.
Sometimes answers don’t have questions either.
Kids can be incredibly sensitive to the world around them, a lot more than we often give them credit for.
You’re raising one very kind child.
At http://fenicle.com/2008/01/28/some-questions-have-no-real-answers/
I read it all top to toe, and it touched a soft spot at 8:15 this morning.
Your writing seems like dharma, truth, your realization seems profound.
Isn’t fear of death fundamentally a fear of losing that which one knows about oneself, the limits of oneself?
In my own experience of “self” and the limits of same, I’ve been able to get to the point where I’m aware of no self, aware of that possibility that everyone may realize that, without fear of it, and move on.
To each their own, some have a theism, some have a non-theism, some a God, some not. Whatever the means, if the intention is towards peace, we might have a common aim.
Peace be into, unto and around you. Thanks for writing.
Alan
Emily, I still have goosebumps from Ethan’s statement and that he must remember more then you thought. What a gift a child can be as they bring things into simple focus. Sometimes we convalude and they clear it all up…with one sentence.
Thank you for your support on my blog..I love to read your comments. I’m glad your on the mend and I’m heading there. I showered and put make up on today…that was big…
My best,
Dorothy from grammology
remember to call gram
Wow, what an amazing kid.
I did not know, I guess, that he was in the car. I have always been grateful that I had not had my girls yet when I had my horrible accident.
How true it is that some questions—the big ones, really—have no answers. Still, what you said, what he said…that’s as good and lovely as it gets.
Beautiful post.
It is amazing what comes out of our kids sometimes.
[…] way that kids can make you cry. What a […]
And then I bet he had to tell you to stop hugging him so hard. Bless his little heart.
Beautiful what a wonderful little boy you have.
What an awesome little boy!
Wow. Pretty amazing stuff. How wonderful it is to have a child who is emotionally aware and sensitive, you are so right-he has such gifts to give the world.
ooof.
From the mouths of babes…they can be so wise.
That made me tear up, but I definitely understand. My children have sometimes come up with some of the most profound thoughts; all I could do was stare, mouth wide open in awe.
He is definitely thankful for his mommy.
This got me, tears are flowing. Sometimes they just hit you with a whammy.
Wow. I’m with you. I just can’t even respond to that. Very touching. Thanks for sharing.
That’s quite a profound statement from such a young boy.
I agree with the woo-woo person. It’s very touching. I got kinda teary eyed