On Death and Dying

Knock on wood; we have never had to explain the concept of death to our inquisitive 3 year old. (Well, except for the ladybug incident…but that was an exceptional circumstance…) So what a shock when Toby and I were playing yesterday and he announced that one of his trucks was “dead”.

It was an intricate game that incorporated Lego, the horses from his farm animals, Tomas the Tank Engine and various cars and trucks in a repetitive story line in which the horses and cars woke up to find the blue truck missing. Turns out this truck had escaped in the night and was in the middle of the field. Broken. The cars would wake up the horses who would eat their breakfast of carrots and then rush off to enlist Thomas the Tank Engine (playing the role of mechanic) in the search and rescue of the blue truck.

Upon discovering the broken truck, Thomas would usually announce that it was missing a wheel, but on round 3 of the game Thomas was dismayed to announce to the horses that the truck was, in fact, DEAD.

For added flourish, Toby paused and raised his eyebrows at me after clinching the diagnosis.

I wasn’t sure how to respond. I gave (what I thought was) an appropriate display of remorse and suggested that they take the truck back to the repair shop to be fixed.

“No, Mommy! He’s DEAD!”

(Apparently I had not demonstrated enough remorse to fully convey my understanding of the word “dead”)

“He’s SO MUCH DEAD that he can’t get UP!” Toby continued, “Mummy…he’s dead ALL OF THE TIME!”

Yikes! This kid means business. The truck was obviously dead. But how on earth did Toby understand what this meant? By the serious look on his face and his pessimism about the situation I got the sense that my 3 year old was starting to grasp the finality of death. Was he really ready to understand this concept? How far did I let this go? Would I really mess him up by pretending the mechanic could still fix his “dead” car or did the game stop here? Was a Lego graveyard and a funeral led by Sir Toppam Hat the next step?

Before I made up my mind which way to proceed, Toby took the game back into his own hands and decided for himself that Thomas would set to work on the futile situation. (I sense a true ER doctor lingering somewhere in there…)

Thankfully, it didn’t take Thomas long.

“AHA! I have figured it out! His battery is definitely DEAD. He needs a new battery!”

And suddenly it dawned on me. We HAD taught Toby about death. Repeatedly. As my cranky pregnant and later sleep deprived postpartum patience dwindled, the subject of my irritability was often whatever loud noise making plastic toy Toby would be playing with at the time. After he had put it aside I would covertly take the batteries out or turn the switch to “off” and then use the line “Toby I’m sorry, the battery is dead, the sound doesn’t work anymore - -you’ll have to play with it without sound for now.”

Little did I know I was simultaneously teaching him his first lesson on death and dying.

You’ll be happy to know that the blue truck, much like the ladybug, came back to life, thanks to the quick work of the horses, Thomas the tank Engine and a new battery. I let the situation satisfy him for now and will keep my fingers crossed that true death doesn’t cross his innocent life’s path for the next little while so he may be shielded just a little bit longer from the knowledge that batteries can’t fix everything.