Before dinner, we had a little memorial to honor lazy cat’s passing. Busy daddy made a rock sculpture under the cherry tree in our backyard, and we told the boy he can look at it to remember lazy cat.

The boy asked, “How come there wasn’t any blood when lazy cat died?” We told him that sometimes animals die when they are sick and very old, and there’s no blood. The boy said, “Lazy cat is the first person in my family to die. I hope no one else dies.”

It’s crazy because I was over 30 years old before anyone I personally knew died. In fact, I’ve only been to one funeral in my entire life. It’s tough enough to explain to an adult what dying means, let alone explaining death to a five-year-old.

Today the boy has been asking how old everyone in our extended family is, and he’s trying to figure out who’s the next to go. I hope this preoccupation with mortality passes. I know it will. Hopefully soon.

Interestingly, the boy thinks that lazy cat will be reborn and come back as a different color cat. He asked if we come back as a different color when we’re reborn. I don’t know the answer to that question.

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