My father’s father was an amateur painter. After he retired from his job as a civilian engineer with the Navy he converted his basement into a painting studio and created. I think he did some great work and I have three of his paintings hanging in my house. A few days ago my soon to be four year old asked me about one of them. It’s a scene of Queens College, where my grandfather took art classes. He wanted to know where it was so I told him and I also told him who painted it. One of the other paintings I have by him is a self-portrait that is hung above our mantel. I took him over to that and showed him his Great-Grandpa Herman. Of course he wanted to know where Great-Grandpa was now.
So back I was explaining death to a preschooler. I told him that Herman was dead and he immediately made the association with Eric. He then asked me where they were. I am supremely uncomfortable with this question; probably because I don’t really know what I believe. I copped out and said heaven. Metaphysics and four year olds just don’t mix. He then asked me when Herman would be coming back. See what I mean?
I remember growing up when I would learn about relatives who had died before I was born, I would always imagine them dying just before I was born and wonder why they couldn’t hang on to meet me. Obviously this wasn’t the case, but it made sense in my mind.
I know my son’s mind is constantly churning and figuring out new things and I know he’ll figure this out too. Hopefully I’ll figure out a way to help him if and when he needs it.
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