Living

Last week Todd and I attended a funeral. It was a beautiful and emotional service.

At dinner later that night, Todd asked the kids if I had told them anything about the funeral and then suggested I tell them a little about the man who died. We talked about the stories told, the pictures painted of a beloved son, brother, uncle, cousin, and friend. We all agreed that this was a man whom many loved. This was a man that had a lot to live for.

And then I shared with them how he died.

You see, this man chose his path, just as we all do, but in this case the path led to his suicide. We will never know the extenuating circumstances that made him feel that dying was his only choice, but lives are always affected by the choices we make.

I could feel the impact this story had on Ethan and I recognized the importance of “real” and profound conversations about the hard things in life. After all, we, as parents, are here to teach and prepare our children for these very difficulties.

I explained, “You see, we all have tough days, and you are going to have a lot of tough days. Sometimes we feel lonely and sad. But I want you to know that no matter how bad the day is, no matter how terrible you feel, there will always be a reason to live your life, the life God gave you. Your dad and I love you no matter what. We will always want you here with us, ALWAYS.”

I looked into Ethan’s red and slightly swollen eyes (an emotional response brought on by watching me cry, no doubt, because of course, I was all tears and snot by this point). I could see the thoughts sifting through his head, memories of past hurts hidden from view, tender feelings that even I know little about. Though young and carefree, he could understand and had felt some of the pain and disappointment that life brings.

“I could never kill myself,” he said solemnly. “I love you, mom.” It was simply stated, but profoundly felt.

Sometimes the Lord puts words into your mouth that you could not have chosen by yourself. If this conversation had been up to me, we probably wouldn't have had it. I would have assumed him too young for the subject matter, too removed from the situation. Even if we would have talked, I would have completely left out the cause of death, OR told the story leading with the facts of the suicide. Either way, my retelling would have lost the impact this version had on my son. Maybe this story, at this time, was important to Ethan's growth and development. Who can say?

And that is the difference between a conversation led by a fallible human mother, and a conversation prompted and inspired by a loving Heavenly Father.

Mad Faces and Aging

“Andrew, how was preschool today?”

“Good.”

“Is your teacher nice?”

“My teacher has a mad face.”

“Hmm…is she mean to you?”

“No. She just has a mad face and she is not beautiful,” Andrew said. “And mom, she has a brown tooth.”

This was obviously an area that Ethan felt he had some expertise, so he jumped into the conversation to explain.

“Andrew, sometimes when we get old, our teeth turn to wood and fall out.”

Bone turns to wood? Wow! Who knew? I guess we have a lot to look forward to as we age.

And just so you know, Andrew’s preschool teacher is a very nice woman but I guess he’s not really into the “older” crowd. Andrew has told me himself that he likes his women “tall, and strong, and talking.”

(this means no babies)

I guess he should have added another pre-requisite; under 40.

Yikes! I won't qualify for long myself!