The BIG Question

I don't remember when it was that Malia was introduced to the concept of death, but I do know I can't recall a time when she did not know what it is.  I have had friends, students, people from the community pass away, and a couple of times, she has wanted to come to the funeral home. I prepared her extensively, then did take her.  The experiences always sparked a lot of questions afterward, but she stayed pretty cerebral about the whole thing. She got that they were "gone", but b/c she had not had a profound relationship with anyone we lost, she was okay.

Fast forward to this morning, and we're on the way into school. She is asking about a dog I used to have that she has seen pictures of. She asks why he is gone.  I tell her Samson had gotten very old-  his eyesight, his hearing, his ability to hold his bowels etc had all gone.  I do NOT tell her I had to make the terrible choice to have him euthanized...  but he was 16 1/2 years old and a Husky-Shepard. he had outlived his peers by over 4 years.

She asks if I cried.
I say yes, very much.
She asks if it's b/c he would never come back and I missed him
I say yes.
Then she makes a connection:

Mama, Vó-Vó and Vô-Vô are old, right?  And they're going to die, too, and never come back?  Mama, then we'll be all alone.

I told her that they were still just fine and would be for many years.
 But, I told her this with a huge lump forming in my own throat.  One of my daily prayers is that they are here for at least 10 more years, so that she can truly understand when the permanent goodbyes have to happen.  But, almost weekly one of their peers, someone that was fine at church, or at the grocery store, or at the card game, closes his/her eyes forever, so I can't guarantee my little girl anything, much less my own heart.  Still I try.

A few moments later, she reiterated that they're going to die, and she doesn't want them to be gone forever.
I simply state, "Me, too, baby."

We're quiet, the radio is on.
And, then she starts to cry-  big, broken, heart felt sobs.  She doesn't want them to die.

I manage to talk her through again,acknowledging how much she's hurting, but also letting her know that they're fine; that they're going to pick her up from school today and they'll go to the park etc.  She perks up, especially when, when we get to her school I make a silly game out of getting the doors open, and running in b/c the rain is going to melt me.

But, after her outside shoes are in their cubby, her new ones on her feet- after, her lunch and communications folder are in their proper places, she turns to me and hugs me with a ferocity that almost knocks me over. I put my hand on her head and she whispers, "I am worried about them. I am worried about Vó-Vó and Vô-Vô." 

Thank fully, one of the older kids that adores Malia is in the hall when we leave the classroom to go to Latch Key and Ki-Ki sweeps Malia into her arms and carries her off-  laughing.