A four year old discusses mortality
We lost two of our rabbits this past year. Beanbag and Holly both passed away. This has hit Caleb particularly hard as Holly was the bunny he had declared to be "his" bunny. "Holly is MY bunny, the others are yours. Holly is my best friend."
Holly was the bunny who was abused before HRN got her. She was terrified of children, but Caleb spent a good portion of his young life carefully approaching her on his belly to give her a banana chip, then scooting away quietly so she could eat it in peace. By the time she passed away she would run up to Caleb, hop around his feet, take the carrot he offered her, run a victory lap around the top floor, holding the carrot aloft like the Olympic Torch before settling down to eat the baby carrot.
Caleb has had death on his mind the last few months because of Holly's passing.
Earlier this week I was driving Caleb to school when he had a conversation with one of his stuffed animals, a cheetah named "Wendy."
*Heavy, dramatic sigh*
"I'm going to die some day Wendy. We all die someday. It's sad, but when I die I won't come back and I won't be able to play with you anymore. Before I die I'll take you with me when I move out of Mommy and Daddy's house. I think I'll pick a wife and have kids. They'll be grown by the time I die so they'll be OK."
My four and a half year old has a better handle on his own mortality than most adults. I'm not quite sure if this is a good thing or not.
Holly was the bunny who was abused before HRN got her. She was terrified of children, but Caleb spent a good portion of his young life carefully approaching her on his belly to give her a banana chip, then scooting away quietly so she could eat it in peace. By the time she passed away she would run up to Caleb, hop around his feet, take the carrot he offered her, run a victory lap around the top floor, holding the carrot aloft like the Olympic Torch before settling down to eat the baby carrot.
Caleb has had death on his mind the last few months because of Holly's passing.
Earlier this week I was driving Caleb to school when he had a conversation with one of his stuffed animals, a cheetah named "Wendy."
*Heavy, dramatic sigh*
"I'm going to die some day Wendy. We all die someday. It's sad, but when I die I won't come back and I won't be able to play with you anymore. Before I die I'll take you with me when I move out of Mommy and Daddy's house. I think I'll pick a wife and have kids. They'll be grown by the time I die so they'll be OK."
My four and a half year old has a better handle on his own mortality than most adults. I'm not quite sure if this is a good thing or not.