It’s not often that my children make me cry.
There’s been the accidental elbow to the eye, the Lego underfoot and their hilarious antics which have all caused me to shed a tear or two in pain or laughter.
But rarely, if ever, have their words ever caused me to cry.
Yet, there I sat holding Ahren, who had a strangle hold on my neck and was sobbing so hard he could hardly talk let alone catch his breath. And I was crying right along with him.
He’s become rather fascinated with death lately.
I’ve no idea what has prompted this interest and honestly have no idea how to deal with it.
When he stuttered through choked sobs “I don’t want to lose you, I love you”, my tears hit and my heart broke.
He’s scared we’re going to die, that his friends will die. He doesn’t want to be alone.
And we will, one day, all die. But that isn’t what he wants to hear. As his mama, I want to protect him, and keep his dreams and innocence alive, but lying to him seems wrong.
Yet when a 6 year old asks you “Why did you daddy have to die?” there really isn’t an answer that will appease him, especially when, as a daddy’s girl, you often ask yourself the same question.
There are many challenges that are thrown our way when we become a parent, somehow this one has caught me by surprise and I’m unsure how to deal with it.