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Mommy, are mummies real?

Seems like an easy enough question, right? I paused for a minute knowing that this was one of those parental moments. I could just say no, knowing that he was really asking about the scary monster kind, and avoid the whole uncomfortable talk about death. But then what if a fellow know-it-all kindergartner calls me out and makes D feel embarrassed? These five-year-olds love talking about the gross and the gruesome, so a play group chat about real mummies – the kind at the museum, the kind that are “so gross” – was sure to surface.

So, I shakily answered that monster mummies aren’t real, but a long, long time ago in Egypt people would wrap their loved ones who died in cloth strips and these are called mummies and yes, they are real. His response after a thoughtful pause, “Can you say that all again?” Of course after my explanation he had dozens of questions about death and the after life, all of which made me squirm since we really don’t affiliate with one religion, and I think only confused him more. With each response, I opened up another rabbit hole.

I feel very fortunate that we haven’t experienced a real-life tragedy or a loss of a pet, which would require the explaining as well as the grieving. So far questions have come up from movies (why does the dad in How to Train Your Dragon 2 have to die!?) or games (grrr Ninjago). Or the boys will be playing with friends and I’ll hear, “I died you,” and I’ll rush in to change the game into something more pleasant, not related to killing people…sheesh, boys.

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Ms. Train had a great post on talking about death with preschoolers. My personal answer to D so far has been that death happens when something in your body stops working. When pried with the, “then whats” keep it very vague. “Well, some people believe this, and some people believe that,” and when the topic of me dying comes up, I just brush it aside with a, “Yes, everyone dies, but I’m not going to die until I’m 100 years old.” Mr. Skateboard was raised on a farm, so death was a part of life, so even having conversations about how dinosaurs died for him is new territory.

I surveyed my fellow neighborhood Moms to see how they handle questions of death and beyond. Many of my friends have their religious faiths as a base for explaining the tricky stuff, while others stumbled along the conversation like I did, or even (magically) avoided it all together.

But, the best answer that I heard from one of my girlfriends, is no answer at all. My friend wisely stated that she admits to her daughter that she doesn’t know what happens after we die, and asks her daughter what she thinks. Pure genius. Her answer reminded me of a section in the book The Conscious Parent By Dr. Shefali Tsabary:

When we parent from the traditional approach, we encourage our children to look-up to us because this is how we were raised. To be good parents, we feel we need to be all-knowing and all-powerful, little do we realize that when we portray ourselves as so competent, we foster inhibition and fear in our children. They look to us and see an image so out of reach that it causes them to feel inordinately small.  – pg 45

This quote is a side thought, which could be a whole separate post, but for now, “I don’t know,” is my favorite new answer. Not everything has to be a lesson. Simple is sometimes best, at least until they have the emotional maturity to deal with the facts of life and death.