There are so many things I want to tell you about I don’t even know where to start.
Let’s see . . .
There’s yesterday when I made the mistake of making fun of Gael exaggerating his knee scrape (you know how he likes to overdo his little scrapes). When I picked him up from school he had a band-aid on each knee because he had been running, tripped and scraped both knees. He held his shorts up all the way to the car, we went to the market and he kept walking and holding on to his shorts, at home he complained even more. By dinnertime he couldn’t even handle getting up on the chair. Your dad was home by then and I made the mistake of saying that he was dying (of pain) only I didn’t say “of pain,” I left it at dying and he took it literally. He thought he was really going to die and I kept saying no, he wasn’t going to die but he kept crying and I couldn’t figure out what to say to fix what I had already said. Fortunately, after a few minutes he was okay but when I was dressing him after his bath he remembered and began to cry again. This is kind of how it went:
“I don’t want to die! I’m not old. I’m not old ma?”
“No, you’re not old,” and then of course you know me, I try to keep it real with you guys and of course we’re all going to die and I couldn’t lie to him and say he wasn’t going to die, so I said, “It’s going to be a long long time, one hundred years.”
“No, not tomorrow, a long long time. You’re a kid –”
“I don’t want to! I don’t want to be old! I don’t want to die!” he was ready to cry by now and I couldn’t figure out how to fix it so I said I had to go to the bathroom and left it to your dad who, of course, had no problem telling Gael he wasn’t going to die just to get him to stop crying and go to sleep.
“I don’t want to die,”
“No, you’re not going to die,”
“Nauj is going to die? He’s old?”
“No, he’s not going to die either.”
“Tú estás viejito? I don’t want you to die!”
“You don’t want me to die? Okay, I’m not going to die.”
“Y mamá? Y Mayerlin?”
“No, tampoco. None of us are going to die, we’re going to be eternal.”
“Why everyone gets old? The house too?”
“Yeah, the house too.”
Now, how do you explain this to a four year old, life and death and time? So your dad just says, “because that’s life.”
“Oh . . . when we go to the new house this house is going to be old?”
“You don’t want the house to be old either?” (Your dad asked this like he was walking on glass)
“Yeah, it’s okay.”
That’s when it was finally safe for me to get out of the bathroom and go to bed.
“Daddy said I’m not going to die. Tu no?”
“No, we’re not going to die.” (If you can’t beat’em, join’em right?)
“Read me a book. The Very Hungry Caterpillar.” (Ironic don’t you think?)
. . . he was a beautiful butterfly!
There’s also this morning that I was listening to the radio and they were talking about parents using iPads to replace teaching their kids the basics like abc’s, colors, shapes, etc. Is it okay or not?
There’s also the Lila Downs concert I never wrote about.
Then there’s Tia Pilar’s birthday party which I know I already told you a lot about but the one thing I didn’t tell you was how all the kids, rather than run around and play together, were all pinned to their phones or iPads and how Gael fixed that just a little.
And finally there’s this little poem and picture I want to share with you, can you tell what story it is?
But all this will have to be on some other posts so until then . . .
Love you and miss you,