Heavy


Grant, 6, woke up sobbing this evening. He came downstairs and I asked what was wrong. He said he was sad, because someday I will die.

I remember doing this around age 10, with my parents. But in my case, I was concerned about myself dying, because I didn’t want to go to heaven. I didn’t want my whole time to be religion, because I hated going to church and doing church stuff.

I reassured Grant best I could, and then he asked me how many sleeps until I die. So it’s a process.


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