I have to post this before I forget.
Hayden has been curious, thankfully not obsessed, about death since my Grandma died, little questions and comments here and there. Last week, as we are driving to the gym, he asks, "Mom, will you die when you're 90?" Just out of the blue asks. He knows Grandma Ginny was 90 when she died. I just reply with an, "I'm not sure, maybe." and hope that's the end of it.
Not so much. Going a different route, the next conversation goes like this:
H: Mom, when you die we won't have a Mommy anymore, just a Daddy.
Me: Um, okay, ya, I guess so. But, let's not talk like that because Mommy isn't going to be dying anytime soon.
H: It's okay though, we'll get a new Mommy.
Me: *mouth agape, eyes blinking
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