On a beautiful Spring Sunday afternoon, T brought flowers for his Auntie.
A few weeks prior, the memorial garden staff let me know her memorial plaque had been installed and with it, a vase for flowers.
At 8.5 years old, T has experienced a lot of adversity and loss the past year.
When I watched him sit on the grass next to the grave, looking at her plaque, I thought back to three years ago, when T first asked me about death.
I didn’t know how to answer it at the time and little did I know that T would get a first-hand experience in the near future.
Re-reading this post, I would still approach it the same way: with healthy openness and honesty.
Despite living with FASD, T is insightful and perceptive and, at his core, very caring; he can handle the truth in age appropriate doses.
Over the past while, when he wanted to role play a funeral, we would do so; when he wanted to talk about his Auntie as an angel sitting on a cloud, I’d listen.
We try to convey the message that death is a part of life and that’s why we have to enjoy life and appreciate each other while we can.
We let T know, a while back, the hubby and I have a plot in the same memorial garden.
We bought it a decade ago, after my dad passed. With our wills also done, it gives us peace of mind that we have things planned for T.
We also make it clear to him that we don’t want to move in anytime soon, but that it’s good to be prepared as parents.
After we visited my sister, we headed over to our plot on the other side of the garden.
I noticed during this visit that our future neighbour was born in 1883 and passed away 70 years ago!
“I’m going to be with you too,” T said.
“Oh no, this is for Daddy and I,” I said.
Then T got upset and said we were being rude.
I clarified that when he becomes a grownup one day, he will probably have his own family and may want to be with them instead of us.
“Well, they can all go in with us!” He said.