I found myself having a conversation about mortality with Ella in the car. As usual, I was being brutally honest and then started to regret my bluntness halfway through the conversation.
Ella – Mum, it’s going to be a sad day when we die.
Me – I suppose, but we won’t know.
Ella – You mean we won’t know that we’ll die that day?
Me – We might. If we’re really sick and the doctor tells us that he cannot make us better.
Ella – Oh, that would be bad.
Me – But that happens mostly to old people.
Ella – That’s good then. But it will be a sad day when we die.
Me – But we won’t know because we’ll be dead.
Ella – But if we’re in heaven we’ll miss all our friends and be really sad.
Me – IF there’s a heaven we’ll be happy there because everybody’s happy in heaven. IF there’s no heaven then we won’t know anything because we won’t be able to feel or think when we’re dead.
Ella [suddenly getting teary] – But our friends and family, they will be sad the day that we die and they will miss us.
Me – Yes, that’s true. But it’s no use getting all sad about it now because we won’t die for years and years and years and years…
Ella – … and a month!
Maybe that’s what my bluntness does. It teaches her to lighten the mood when it gets too dark.