Jackson is at the age where he realizes that people sometimes die. He’s constantly asking about it, and it really worries him. I was watching a TV show the other day where someone was in the hospital, not even close to death, and he busted out crying. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me, “I don’t want to die!” All this from a re-run of Desperate Housewives! When he found out that one of my grandmothers passed away when I was little, it just opened up a whole new set of questions. “How old was she when she died? How old were you? Was she sick? Am I sick? Do kids die? How old is your other grandmother?” Some of those are really hard questions and occasionally I’m not sure how to respond without freaking him smooth out. Last night, it was on his mind, AGAIN!
Jackson — What was your grandma’s name?
Me — Her name was Maggie.
Jackson — How old were you when she died?
Me — I was twelve years old. It was a long, long time ago.
Jackson — Back when dinosaurs were here?
Only a 4 year old can make you laugh during a discussion like this.
