Will there be toys to play with there?
Every night as part of her bedtime ritual, Ely thanks G-d for her parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends – and mentions most of them by name.
Somehow last night, this led her to ask the question: “Imma, are you going to die?”
She has been alluding to this for sometime now, but hasn’t quite come straight out and asked it.
I didn’t want to promise her that I wouldn’t die, so I said I would do my best to live a long time. But, I explained to her, everyone dies and that’s why we have to live everyday with good things – doing mitzvot (good deeds and G-d’s commandments), being nice to our family and friends, and trying to be healthy.
“Is there food where you go when you die? And toys, are there toys to play with when you get there?”
She has been obsessed with asking over and over again whether or not she will die or I will die.
“I don’t want to die and be there alone.”
Pretty deep questions for a 6 year old.
Thank G-d she can ask them, and I am here to try to answer them.
What would have you answered her?
posted by Sarah Smile @ 7:36 AM
4 comments
4 Comments:
probably the same thign you did.
and that, yes, there are LOADS of toys to play with...
Spaz
It's an ongoing conversation once in a while w/Abbie, especially with an "Older" family, people die. We tell her, pretty much the same things you did, and that in "SHAHMAYIM" you will be with people who love you forever and ever, even if you don't know them, they know you, and everything will be o.k. ....next topic....
I'd say "Little kids almost never die, but yes there are lots and lots of toys, and Mommy and Daddy and your whole family. But it almost never happpens. So don't worry about it. This is Heaven right here. Goodnight."
Shortly before my Ima (z"l) passed away nearly 12 years ago after a heroic (but sadly, still losing) battle with cancer, she said something profound which continues to give me tremendous chizuk with this issue.
We had been discussing her decision to enter hospice and acknowledge that her disease was terminal. I was (understandably) distraut, and was doing my best (unfairly) to convince her to continue her battle rather than surrender.
She got very quiet and gently reminded me that death is a part of life, and that at some point we will each face it. I, in turn, got quiet and asked, "But, Ima, aren't you scared?" To which she slowly, deliberately, and thoughtfully responded, "I used to be. But then I realized that Grandpa (z"l) is already where I will be going. I know he will love and look after me, and that knowledge gives me strength."
I miss her terribly. But you know, there is both great solace and wisdom in her statement. We won't be alone. The people who we've loved and lost have lighted the way for us. In what ever form that is.
I once worried that sharing this idea might be too abstract for my children when they were Ely's age -- but they seemed to take quite well. They never had the opportunity to know my Mom, but they have fond memories of both my Grandma Faige and David's Grandma Faye. Even though we can't define HOW we will be with our departed loved ones again, the IDEA that we will seems to be enough to satisfy children, because I think that to them, death simply means being horribly and inextricably alone.
Any ways... that's what I have answered my own kids.....
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