Chase and I went for a run the other night. Just him & I. When I was pregnant we got a new jogging stroller, Chase picked out the color, it's a bright blue. The other day we decided to go for a short run, just him & I. We don't get time to do things together like we use to before his baby brother came along. So off we went.
On the walk back up the hill to our house is a cemetery on the right. I have walked with Chase in this particular cemetery before. Chase this night asked what it was. I told him that it is called a cemetery. It is where people go after they die. Trying to give the simplest answer for his little mind.
Chase asks why?
I cringe inside a little. We have not yet had this talk. Chase will be 3 1/2 next month. He is pretty bright. He knows what being dead is, loosely in his own mind at least.
Of coarse he asks why. He's 3. Now I have to try and explain this as G rated as possible, knowing he wants, needs, and deserves some sort of explanation.
I tell him that: Just like fishes die, bugs die, animals die, and so do people. A cemetery is a place that we bury them so we can come back and visit them whenever we want.
He didn't say anything, he got his explanation.
Later that night we were driving to a park and he pointed to a cemetery we were passing and said: "Mama look"!
I then said: Do you remember what that is? To which he shook his head yes.
Me: And what is in a cemetery. Chase's answer: "People".
It has begun, this thing they call parenting.
Teaching.
Guiding.
Holding our breathe while we do this. Hoping we are saying and doing all the right things.
It amazes me what a 3 year old mind can absorb. What a child clings on to and remembers. Our words are sacred to them. They hold on to things we say. Believe it or not, sometimes they actually listen.