Conversations with Eli

Eli and I have been having some cool conversations, including one the other night when he told me he wanted to be an astronaut when he grows up so he could go visit other planets -- but he would have to ask Mommy first. Which made me visualize some future launch where the flight controller is going through the pre-launch checklist on pressures and temperatures and the like and someone yells "check" after each one. Finally, the controller yells out, "Commander Eli's mom?" and this little gray haired lady knitting in the corner yells "check!"

Then we had the following conversation.

He wants to ride a motor boat and I told him we used to have one. When? He asked. Before you were born, I said. When I was a glint in Mommy's eye? He asked Yes, I said.

Why? He said.

We had the boat before you were made, I said.

There was a pause, and he said, "Daddy, when will I die?"

I didn't see that one coming. First, so much love, hope, planning and effort went into his creation that his -- and I am pausing here to even write the word -- death is unthinkable. In fact, like all parents, I assume I will never have to face it, knowing the odds are great that I will meet death first. Second, I'm amazed that a three-and-half year old would be asking these questions. And while at 44 I've lost the hubris of youth that assumes indestructibility, I certainly don't comprehend death. I know it happens, I know it will happen to those I love and I know it will happen to me. Beyond that I'm clueless.

Daddy, when will I die?

I said not for a long, long, long time.

He asked, will I go to Heaven?

This was an even tougher one. It's hard for me to tell him sincerely he was going to a place I'm not sure I believe in. But it sure is a nice, convenient construct for moments like this and I took it, allowing myself one caveat.

I said, "lots of people believe in Heaven and you will go there and be very, very, happy."

The next day he asked a related question about life after death and I tried to BS my way out of it. And I could tell he knew I was BSing. Why couldn't we talk about the birds and the bees? At least I believe in that.

Fortunately, although three-and-a-half year olds have big questions they can also have short attention spans and I was able to change the subject.

The picture was taken by a friend at a dinner party we went to last week, an evening of laughter and fun with friends who are really family and a part of Eli's life. Hopefully, for years and years to come.