Mrs. Vest, this is G from Camp Invention. Your son would like to come home early today to cuddle with you.
His poor, anxious mind is already on tomorrow morning, when I’ll undergo surgery on my colon and have my gall bladder removed. He worries so much. Just like his mother. A trait I wished I would not have passed on.
Mom, I’m not going to die ever, so everything will be fine tomorrow.
My daughter’s logic, never fails. Always bold and stubborn. Also just like her mother. A trait I’m glad I passed on. She’s convinced we can’t die and I’m lying to her when I try to explain everyone dies, eventually.
Mom, when I grow up you really are going to die, aren’t you?
What do you think?
I think you are going to die.
and then from the bed…my son tells her …
Hala, you KNOW everyone dies and that’s just the way of life. You just don’t want to have a normal life.
No, I’m going to live always.
But you can’t!
Yes I can!
And there I sat, the night before my surgery, with my five and seven-year olds arguing about death. And I felt alone, and cold, and miserable at the realities they were dealing with because of my inability to be healthy.