Thursday, February 5, 2015

When the Sun Burns Out




I drive my kids to and from school every day. The crazy rush in the morning to get myself and three littles out the door with all of their stuff and make it to school on time is always fun. The toddler resisting getting dressed and sometimes continuing to fuss on the way there, the complaints from the older children:  "I don't like this song." "He's touching me again."... You get the picture.  If that was not enough to put you over the edge, there is always the parent drop off/pick-up line, i.e. idiots on parade. Where parents turn into animals, cutting one another off and breaking all traffic laws to get snowflake to and from school.  American parents everywhere have heard this story more than once.

But, this is not what this post is about. If you need something humorous today read the post I wrote the other day(Birthday Wish List ). This post is about something a little different that happens on these car rides.

This morning Bean, who by the way is now 8, and no longer wants to be called Bean (but this is my blog and he has no say here) asks, "Mommy what will happen when the sun burns out"?  "Well Liam when the sun burns out,  scientists believe that it will suck itself in, and then it will expand and start bursting parts of itself out, and destroying everything in its path, including earth."  Bean: "So no life?" "No Bean, no life, but no need to worry about that because scientists have done a lot of research, and they do not expect this to happen for billions of years." Liam: "I don't want to die and go to heaven." Tadpole, "Yeah that sounds terrible." "Well, that will be a long time away, and I will be there waiting for you." Tadpole: "Yea because you are old, and older than us." "Yes, yes I am, and if you get there before me, which I hope never happens, you can show me all around. You know before you were born, you were not here, and you don't spend time worrying about what happened before you were born. A lot of people are afraid of dying, because they don't know what is going to happen." I reach back and touch Tadpoles leg, because at this point I am tearing up a bit and I want to comfort them, and I don't know if I am succeeding at all. "Maybe you were afraid of being born, but look what happened, you entered the world and now you are a part of this amazing family we have. We just have to spend our time on earth loving each other and enjoying our lives." I am really holding back tears I think about all of this. Death is something I have had to think about more often than most people my age, because of my health issues. It is so much harder to deal with when I am thinking about my beautiful children and they are voicing their concerns and fears around death.


We arrive at their school and they get ready to get out. I kiss them both and tell them that I love them
very much and I hope they have a great day learning and having fun. As I drive off, Wren starts to fuss because now she is alone in the car. I  reach back extended my arm as far as I can. She takes her hand and grabs on to my two fingers with all her little might. She just wants to know I am there. She wants to feel my touch. To know that she is safe and loved. As she hold onto my fingers every so often my  hand slips a little from the bumps, and she grabs a little harder to make sure I am not going anywhere.

 I am lost in thought about the conversation I just had with my boys, and the overflowing amount of love I feel as Wren's little hand hold onto mine. My heart is in this car every morning and I love these car rides.  The hectic shuffle stops mattering. Time slows down a little,  everyone's attention is captured, and we have this deep conversations. I realize that the most difficult questions I have ever been asked in my entire life, are not from professors or experts questioning me, but from my small children and with all my might I will do my best to answer them correctly, as honest as I can and as lovingly as I can, because this, this is the best and most important job I have and ever will  sign up for.Pin It

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