Pants-Free Parenting: Tackling death questions with child proves tricky

‘I  will be 4 soon,” my daughter told a perfect stranger at a restaurant. He was kind and smiled. 'Oh, 4. That's so old.”

'I won't be too old, not die old. Are you going to die?”

I pulled her away and smiled at the man, who looked confused. My smile is wide and I hope he didn't understand what she just said. I don't really know how to have the 'Let's not tell people they are going to die” conversation. So, I just told her the food was ready and we needed to eat.

My daughter will be 4 soon and as such, is very concerned with the prospect of death. When we drive by the cemetery on C Avenue, she asks me if the dead people there are all old, if they will stay dead, and if they can come out and play sometime. I don't know how to answer her. I was prepared for questions about how babies were made, not about if the dead can come out and play.

The other day, she grabbed hold of her father's hand and said, 'Daddy, when you die, I will hold onto you and float up to heaven with you.” A few weeks ago, she made a card for a friend and read it out loud, 'Dear Owen, I love you very much and I hope you don't die. Ever.”

As a parent, I oscillate between being afraid and very creeped out. Research assures me this is all normal. Children become obsessed with death to try to understand the world. To understand life's beginnings, they have to have a grasp on its ends. The advice says to answer her questions simply and honestly. But it's hard when I don't have all the answers myself.

I want to assure her that no one will die, that everything is fine and here, have this cookie and stop talking. But she will know it is a lie. Last year, a dear friend lost her son. My children came with me to the memorial service where we released balloons. 'Are the balloons going up to see the baby,” my daughter asked.

I told her, 'Yes.”

I know I'm not supposed to lie. But I didn't know what else to say in that moment. So, I just said, 'Yes.” I hoped I was good enough. She still remembers that. She sees balloons and bubbles and tells them to fly away to the babies in the sky. I too recall looking at the stars and thinking they were my grandpa looking down on me. I liked to talk to him, to tell him things about me. He died when I was young, but I remember him sitting me on his lap and telling me a story about a witch, and me laughing from fear and delight.

My daughter also has a grandpa in the stars. She never met him. He died when he was only 54. I like to think of how much joy he would have had in hearing her tell her grandma, his wife, that she has an 'old, old face.” Or seeing her stand with her hands on her hips and yell, 'Daddy Claire Lenz, come here!” at the top of her lungs.

So, while I tell her the truth about most things, I still let her think that there are babies and grandpas in the sky. Sometimes when you are so little and the world is so big, it just helps to think that there is someone very far away, loving you across the galaxies.

' Lyz Lenz is a writer, mother of two and hater of pants. Email her at eclenz@gmail.com or find her writing at LyzLenz.com.