Not your usual dinner conversation.

Just when I think I’ve got this whole parenting thing down, one of my kids throws me a curve ball. I’m left feeling that wobbling, unsteady sense of balance as if getting up on roller skates for the first time.

Last evening was hot, freakishly hot and no one in our house wanted to cook. We headed out to a restaurant to have a relaxing dinner. Nana was out with her friends so it was just the 4 of us. All was well, we all had what we wanted, and things were calm. Tom took Nate to the bathroom leaving Annabelle & I to eat in compatible silence.

Suddenly Annabelle turns to me and says “Mommy, where am I going to go when I die?”

I paused with my omelet halfway between my plate and mouth, not knowing where this was coming from or where it needed to go.

Me – Well honey, you will go to heaven.
Annabelle – Where will I go once I get to heaven?
Me – heaven is just heaven. I’m not sure how it is broken up. If it even is.
A—and I’ll be with God & Jesus?
Me – Yes.

And at this point I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and tell her this was a good thing. She was a blessed soul from the day of her conception. That she was going to meet and be surrounded by grandparents, an uncle and even 2 sisters/brothers that never actually made it to this world. She would be at peace, all her questions would be answered and there was no suffering. I wanted to tell her this belief has gotten me through my darkest times; I wanted her to know that faith is all we have, and all we need.

But I didn’t. I paused. For as much as my little intellectual understands beyond her years I thought this might be too much for her to absorb. I waited for her next cue on where to take this conversation. Tears welled up in my sweet little girls eyes. “But Mommy, I’m going to miss you SO much”

“Oh Annabelle” I replied. “By the time you get to heaven, I’ll already be there waiting for you with open arms”

Her sorrow cleared. She gave me thumbs up and went back to eating her French Toast. The charged air between us dissipated as the cool breeze created by the air conditioning vent above our head clicked on and Nate’s loud proclamation from 3 tables away that he “peed in the potty!”

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Now back to our regularly scheduled Daily Activity posts. I just wanted to write this down; I wanted to remember the emotion. I wanted to remember my thoughtful little girl and how her brain worked at age 4.