December 30
As I put her to bed tonight, my daughter wanted to talk about death and dying. Not in a macabre way; in a matter-of-fact tone, she asked about what happens when we die, and what heaven is like. Needless to say, it wasn’t me who planted the concept of death or heaven in her budding consciousness. I avoid all conversations about death because, well, it fills me with existential dread and seizes me with terror. As for ‘heaven,’ well, aside from the death fear, I’m too ambivalent spiritually to be of much help there. So I figure I’ll stay out of it and hope for the best. Sounds like a good plan, huh?
But Cynthia really wanted to talk about dying and heaven — I didn’t have much choice but to oblige. Someday, she’ll know how clueless I felt. In the meantime, I guess I’m all she’s got. Hopefully, I didn’t screw her up too badly. Here is an account of our conversation, one of the most entertaining and challenging I’ve had in a long, long time …
INT CC’S BEDROOM, NIGHTTIME
[Just a wedge of light seeps in from the hall. The house is quiet, the father, lying next to the child in bed, is tired. But the child's eyes are still wide with curiosity, alive with images half formed, concepts just barely, slowly coming into view]
Daddy, when we die, how do we get to heaven.
Uh, well, angels [almost as if I'm asking, hoping she agrees]… they watch over us. [more confidently now] when it’s time, take us there.
Are they like fairies?
Yes, they are. But honey, you’re not going to– [she interrupts]
Are they real or are they just ‘characters.’
They are real, but you can’t see them.
How are they real if you can’t see them?
Well, it is like love … you know how Mommy and Daddy love you, and you love us…. [she interrupts ... she's wondering why I'm off-topic].
Are they nice or mean?
They are really, really nice. They love us and look over us and keep us safe.
What happens, to like, us? [she touches her arms and chest]
Our bodies stay here, but our souls [unintelligible parenthetical here on what a soul is] continue on.
How can we fly there if we can’t fly.
Angels have wings, and they help us.
If we die all at the same time, are there lots of angels to take us, or just a couple who take one at a time?
[confidently] Many.
How do we walk in heaven?
[less confidently] I’m not sure exactly how it works, but it is a beautiful place with all the people you love and who love you. But you don’t have to worry about this, because none of us are going to die anytime soon … [she interrupts, she's moved on].
Is there a house to live in in heaven?
Yes, with all of the people you love, and who love you.
Do the angels know who we’re supposed to be with?
Yes, they know.
I want to be with Eliza [cousin] and Brendan [brother]. He’ll be older then and won’t wake up in the middle of the night, or wake up really early in the morning, because he will be older then. What if Eliza gets there before me because she’s older… who will take care of her?
She will be safe with people who love her.
What if you and mommy die, who will take care of Brendan and me in this house?
Mommy and I aren’t going to die. You will be living with us for a long, long time, until you get much older and get a house of your own, and Brendan gets a house of his own, and maybe you have kids of your own … that’s a long, long way off.
But Daddy [she rolls towards me and takes my hand] I want to live with you and mommy forever in this house [my heart melts].
Well, you can live with us as long as you want.
Will I have my bed in Heaven?
Yes, if you want it there.
I want to be in this bed forever. Where is heaven? Is it in Denver, or Mew York (sic) or farther away?
No, it is far, far away. Even farther than New York, or even London [her favorite city to which she's never been]. But you know, none of us are going to die anytime soon. It will be a long, long, long time before you have to worry about any of this.
“Yes, Daddy, I recognize what you are saying.”
With this, I said goodnight. She called me back to the door to go over a few key points. I said goodnight again.
As I walked downstairs, head spinning, she called out one last time. “Daddy, how will the fairies know that I want my bed in Heaven?”
They’ll know, honey, because you’ll think it, and they know you really well and love you, just like I do. They’d know, just like I’d know. I love you.
Love you, too.
Good night.
Good night.


