On Death & Dying

Lately Jaden has been talking about death & dying a lot. Ever since Harpo got sick I suppose. So I can either blame it all on that situation or I need to get my kid into therapy right quick.

Here's a glimpse into his state of mind, a little conversation we had on the way home from a happy little visit at Nana's.


When I was five, I was walking under an airplane and they dropped a bomb on me and I was dead.

And Bailey and Lulu and Ella were all crying, they just kept crying over me, they were so sad. And there were flowers.

And one of them brought me home and they buried me. And they put my blankie over me and gave me my binkie. But my mouth wouldn't open. So they opened it. But they couldn't hear my sucking noises. And they couldn't hear my heart beating. And they coulddn't hear me breathing anymore.

And I couldn't walk anymore. And I couldn't eat. I couldn't eat carrots or broccoli. I couldn't do any of those things anymore.

And it was very sad. And I was dead.

Was that the saddest story you ever heard Mama?


Yes, it was a horribly horrible story. I am so happy it's not true and it's just a story because no mommy wants to hear her son tell the story of his death. And if you die, I will cry and never stop crying. I won't eat or sleep. I will just cry until I die too.


Well when I was five, I didn't go back to that place anymore. I didn't go to that war again and I didn't die.

The moral of the story is a) do not let your kid watch your vet kill your dog in your foyer/living/dining/family room (since you live in a one-room overpriced townhouse in the Bay Area) and b) do not, no matter how nicely he asks, thumb through Newsweek magazine at the doctor's office with him.