Finn: “Will I ever die?”

Me: “What do you think, bug?”

Finn: “I never die. We start over, growing again from our skulls.”

Me: “Does that mean I could be your son? And will you take care of me when I’m old?”

Finn: “Yep. I’ll give you lots of kisses.”

-Dad & Finn (2014, 4.75 years old)
 

After a brutal Monday, before bed, Finn asked me this question. Another round of bedtime existentialism on top of a day surrounded by loss. Our little deal sounded good to me, but can I wondered if I could get an advanced loan on those kisses. Because I’m sad today. On a side note, I now totally understand where headaches come from. Thanks, Finn.

I’m hoping by the time you read this, boys, that we will have found a better way to communicate on these devices and platforms and loudspeakers. For the moment, it feels like all this social networking has become quite the opposite. We are a confused group of animals barking at each other. Where is the meaning in shaming victims? Where is the value in demeaning large swaths of people in pain? We are propagandizing our discord. I’m angry and sad today. And I keep trying to outrun the feeling helplessness about it. Your sweet faces bring me hope.
 

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