This morning, when I got my five year-old to school, this is what he said to me. "Mommy, if I die, I will be resurrected soon." With Easter being right around the corner, I believe that he learned about the Resurrection of Christ in Church yesterday.
I told him that I never want him to die. He replied to me, "With Jesus's super powers I could still come see you."
I believe in Christ. I believe he would still be able to come and see me. I would just have the huge problem that I would not be able to see him. I would not be able to hold him again or tell him how much I love him. We often have the "I love you more than..." conversations.
I can't imagine the void, the incredible loss, that people feel that have lost a child. These were far from the words I expected to hear this morning. The words broke my heart. I took a deep breath and walked him into the school. I prayed for his safety, as well as my other children's safety, as I left. I pray for them always, but this morning, I prayed again.
I picked up my son from school this afternoon. He is perfectly fine. The conversation continued on the way home. I would be resurrected really soon. I told him that Jesus was resurrected in three days, but it would be a lot years until we would be resurrected and that I would miss him. He told me he could still see me. I told him that he wouldn't be able to play with his brother or sisters. He wouldn't be able to play on computers. The conversation ended shortly thereafter.
I once told one of my older children, when he was three or four, that if he runs into the road and gets hit by a car he could die and go to Heaven. He got a big smile on his face. He wanted to go to Heaven and see his Heavenly Father. He didn't realize that would entail not coming back here and seeing us. From then on, I told him if he ran into the road he would get big ouchies. That wasn't nearly as enticing.
I have discussed my anxiety problems on here recently. Since then, my toddler has decided to not swallow a lot of different kinds of food. I brought her to the medical center on Friday and they diagnosed her with a sensory problem. If she doesn't like the texture, she is not going to swallow it. They gave me ideas on things to do. She is going to see a GI specialist on Friday to see if there are any gastrointestinal issues that could be accompanying the problem.
Between the conversation this morning and the recent issues with my daughter's eating, I decided I should call the doctor and get some medication. I am heading to the appointment and hoping to be given a prescription for Zoloft. I have been prescribed Zoloft in the past, and it really does help me. Sometimes it is hard to admit that I need medication to feel normal, but the way I have been feeling recently, I know I need it. Sometimes I feel like I can't even breathe, but of course, I am still breathing.