One of our two dogs passed away last year. My husband would say, our dog traveled over the rainbow bridge. I would say our dog died. We are pretty different in that regard.
So it’s safe to say that when our dog died last year very unexpectedly, we weren’t prepared to have the conversation about death with our three-year-old son. Like all parents do who love their children, we did our best.
…And now our three year old thinks our dog lives in space, watching us from above.
If you can’t tell, things got a bit lost in translation.
Before our dog had died, we had visited the cemetery where David’s grandparents are buried. At that time my husband, David, had explained that our son’s great grandparent’s bodies were buried there, but their souls were everywhere, watching us from above.
Since then, we’ve learned “From above” can take on many meanings, especially if you’re a toddler.
To most people, especially those of the religious sort, this means heaven. While David is spiritual, he’s not religious. And so he had not mentioned heaven. He just left it at “from above” and that seemed to satisfy our son at the time. He didn’t have any further questions about that day.
When our dog had died, David explained to our son that our ol’ pup was now with our son’s great grandparents.
“Oh. So he’s in space.” Our son had said plain and simple.
That’s when it occurred to my husband and I that “From above” to a toddler who loves trains, excavators, and…space ships… “above” is obviously outer space.
And honestly, David and I are very open ended and curious about spirits and life and death, so—while we both realized why our son had come to that conclusion—we didn’t need to have a conversation to decide that, perhaps, our son’s great grandparents and now our family dog was in space. I mean, who’s to say?!
So we left it there.
Which brings us to today while we were walking under the cherry blossoms that a warm March had brought us.
Our daughter’s birthday was coming up and we started to comment on how much our children were growing.
“I’m growing so much!” our son exclaimed.
“You are. But you gotta stop,” I joked. “Stop growing so fast!”
My son took on a very serious tone. “No, mom. I have to grow.”
“Why?” My husband asked.
“Because, I want to grow so tall that I can see into space and visit our dog.”
My husband and I looked at each other.
“So I’ll just keep growing, and then I’ll get too see him again.” Our son continued.
“You still have a ways to go,” my husband said. “You’ve got a lot of growing to do before then.”
My eyes began to tear up.
But isn’t that even more accurate? I thought. We all are just growing a little taller, a little closer to sky—or in this case, space—and when we grow tall enough, it will be time for us to see all of our friends and family in space. Isn’t that a nice way to think about death? Reaching a height that returns us to our loved ones?
Death is a complicated topic to take on with children, but I’ve found myself impressed by the resilience and openness our son has taken it on with. I hope to be like him one day, when I’m older, and a little closer to the sky.