For the past month or so, he has asked me every day, more than once on many days, when I'm going to die. Or when he is going to die. Or when Josie is going to die. Or when Mater or some other character in a story he knows is going to die.
I've taken different approaches to the question. I've told him that no one really knows when they're going to die, but that everyone in our family is healthy, we take good care of ourselves, we wear our seatbelts and eat good food and exercise, so we should all be alive for a long, long time.
I've told him that people in our family live to be really old.
"Zekey, did you know I had a great-grandfather -- Mimi's grandpa -- that lived to be 102? And Mimi's daddy lived to be 93."
"102?"
"Yeah, that's a really big number, isn't it?"
"Yeah!"
"And how old are you?"
"I'm four."
"Right! So you probably have at least another 90 years to live! That's a really long time!"
I've tried to suss out the root of the question.
"Zeke, are you afraid that Daddy and I are going to die and leave you alone?"
"Yes."
"Well, honey, Daddy and I plan on being around for a long time, and we'll make sure that there's someone to take care of you."
He looked skeptical.
It's a weird topic to broach, for a number of reasons. I'm not terribly religious, plus Jews don't believe in heaven or hell in any event, so I'm not going to feed him a bunch of stuff like that, especially since I don't believe in. And he hasn't asked what happens after you die, so I haven't really had to go there. Mostly I've tried to reassure him that we do all we can to live healthy lives, but that we shouldn't worry about what we can't control, and that all we can do is take care of ourselves and work hard and have adventures and be kind to each other.
He's such a little thinker. So sensitive and analytical and smart and emotional.
He loves babies, and when he is upset at school and needs to get away from the craziness of his class, he goes to the baby class and hangs out with the babies and helps the teachers out. "I'm really sweet to them, Mama."
He's a TOTAL mama's boy. He's constantly snuggling me, looking to me for validation, telling me he loves me 50 times a day.
He loves learning and applying and demonstrating his knowledge. When we read books together, he tells me the words he recognizes and counts things and explains the things he knows about.
He's very attuned to other people's emotions.
He is my brother Sam all over again. (And he could do a lot worse.)