Heaven

Out of the blue, as I was getting ready for work yesterday, Ali came in my room and asked me where Heaven was. I tried to explain in five year old terms that it's not a place like McDonald's or Grandma's house, but a place your soul goes after you, er, die. Then she wanted to know when she was going to die. Then she started crying. "What if I get there before you? Who will take care of me? Nobody will love me there! I will miss you too much! Who will give me breakfast? What if it's BORING?!" Nothing I said would stop the tears. In fact, all my answers seemed to add to her hysteria. It was one of those difficult parenting moments where I just wanted to hold her and cry too! Finally I told her that it's just a big, complicated concept for someone who's five and when she's bigger we can talk about it some more. How do you tell a five year old not to worry about it? Then I suggested she call her Grandma. (When you can't fix it, pass the buck... )

This conversation with Ali reminded me of my worries as a little girl. Countless nights spent fretting over the depletion of the ozone layer, global warming and house fires. I would lay in bed and prioritize my sister and stuffed animals. Like, if our house was on fire, first I would rescue blankie, then Leslie, then Bear, but the rest would probably burn. My parents, of course, would have the sense to save themselves. Then my guilt would force me to spend an hour singing, "You are my sunshine" to all the stuffed animals and toys that wouldn't make it.

I must have been an over-informed kid. No more church for Ali. Just kidding....