"Are you going to die soon?" my four year old daughter asked me while trying on a pink baby dress, twirling.
Her expression serious, quickly turned light and sparkling like the dress she was wearing. "You are never going to die, right?"
She hadn't given me a chance to answer. It was as if she didn't want to know what I would say. With her questions more like statements she said to me, "We will never never die, right, Mama?"
She had found a bin of her baby outfits that morning, ones I had saved as mementos. I told her that her daddy used to hold her in those sleepers and onsies. Maddi's eyes widened, making it impossible to hide her smile.
Death is real to her. So real she hopes we can escape it. I'm sad today that I can't lie to her. All I say is, "We won't die until it's our time."
I don't think she heard me. She was busy digging in the baby clothes bin. I chose not to repeat myself. Some truths are too hard to explain…especially the ones I don't fully understand.
