Recently my daughter told me she isn’t afraid of death. “I think it’s your fault,” she confessed on one of our new daily walks since we entered Quarantine. It’s my favorite part of the day now, our walks together. I think she appreciates them as much. “See,” she continued, “your whole lecture about returning to the ocean and Pappa and Grandpa going back to where we came from... Well, I don’t think death is scary.”
I took it as a compliment. But barely. I think, really, I took it the way she intended it; full of fear and doubt followed up with support and love and acceptance. She witnessed two deaths last year. Two very important deaths. As hard as they were, she came out with a greater understanding of life and love and humanity. It’s all we can ever want for our children who face difficulties. We want them to come out of them as better, and more humane, humans.