Pages

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Questions.

At six his questions are coming.
They come faster now than before.

He was writing in his notebook. I was writing in mine.
I noticed him glance at me as I rubbed my belly- a belly swollen with a life of a baby to be delivered in just a few weeks.
He went back to his writing when it came-

"Why do babies die?"
I felt the air leave me and I caught myself wanting to say-
'Why would you ask such a thing? Babies don't die! This baby won't die! Don't worry!"

But I couldn't say it-

I know why he was asking-
and sometimes babies do die-
I don't know what tomorrow holds and while I don't want you to worry- how can I tell you not to when I can't stop the worry in my own mind...

There was a silence as I searched for the right thing to say to him.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Andrew died."

"Yes he did. And I don't know why God needed him when He did- but I do know that He wanted you here to be part of this family right here, right now- that he knew we needed you- and I know that this baby will join our family too Joe, I know it. Don't worry. It'll be o.k"

My answer seemed to be enough as he went back to drawing pumpkins and writing 'stories'. He doesn't dwell on his questions- or the anwers- but for me they linger-

It was the first time I felt that I was lying to him. At that time I didn't know about the baby I carried. I didn't know that it would all be o.k. but I wanted it to be and I didn't want him to worry- I didn't want him to ever worry about things like babies dying... I wanted to protect him- I want to protect all my children-

But this is what his reality is- our reality- and as much as we don't dwell on it, he knows.
He knows he had a brother.
He knows his brother died.
And he has questions.

As his questions come I try to answer them the best I can-
I try to shelter him the best I can-

Because the truth is for some questions, I don't have the answers-

9 comments:

  1. Perfect! We don't always know, but God knows. You'll all see Andrew again! There will be a day filled with so much happiness for you all! It's so hard when kids ask hard questions to answer but I think you did awesome Laura! I picture Junior and Andrew playing together up there! :)
    Hugs to you -stay strong!
    Steph

    ReplyDelete
  2. (((Hugs))) and such sadness that our children know babies die now. Every time I announce a friend or family member has had a baby (there seem to be so many since our George died), the children ask, "Did the baby live?" It's so heartbreaking, isn't it? Their loss of innocence and our inability to prevent them from knowing.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I know one day my daughter will have questions about her sister. I hope she asks. I hope she wants to know about her. But I also know she will have to know that babies die and that is just so unthinkable.

    ReplyDelete
  4. It is so young to have to even think about what death is. How sad. ((HUGS)) We can't even put our minds around it.

    ReplyDelete
  5. A good answer when there are no answers. Hugs to you and a 6-year-old boy who knows more than he ever should know at his age.

    ReplyDelete
  6. This must be so hard. I can only imagine that wanting to protect your children from this reality is natural. It's ok not to have answers, I think you did perfect.

    xx

    ReplyDelete
  7. :(

    After one of my miscarriages our Godson apparantly stood up in class and announced (out of the blue) to his class that his Yaya had a baby growing in her belly and it died and now it's gone. It's so interesting the things that kids are always processing in their minds.


    ((((HUGS))))

    ReplyDelete
  8. This must be so hard. I can only imagine that wanting to protect your children from this reality is natural. It's ok not to have answers, I think you did perfect.

    xx

    ReplyDelete
  9. (((Hugs))) and such sadness that our children know babies die now. Every time I announce a friend or family member has had a baby (there seem to be so many since our George died), the children ask, "Did the baby live?" It's so heartbreaking, isn't it? Their loss of innocence and our inability to prevent them from knowing.

    ReplyDelete

Your thoughts?