Retrospective: an occasional series

This is something I wrote a few years ago. It was for my original blog that never really got off the ground. I had good intentions. Whatever. I picked over some of the stuff and thought I'd recycle it here on Kingdom of Days when the moods strikes me. I like this one and it's nice to remember what was going on back then. 

This is from November 2008. 

Right now, I'm wondering where the heck Dorothy Gale is. And why she is taking her sweet time getting here. Yes, that Dorothy Gale. The one from Oz via Kansas. There is a 3 year old child here breaking his heart over the fact that this girl and her little dog too have not come over to play.

William is absolutely fixated on Dorothy. It started out being cute. He's been watching the Wizard of Oz for a while now and loves it. Which is great because it's my all time favorite movie. He has all the Madame Alexander characters they were giving away with Happy Meals a while back. Although we ordered most of them from Amazon. Since Happy Meals are the work of the devil. 

Recently he started asking for a Dorothy doll that 'takes her shoes and socks off'. No amount of explaining that these things are hard to come by (ie. impossible) would cut it. So we're looking for that non existent doll every place we go.

And then I think William had a dream that Dorothy came over to play. In his world, there is no difference between a dream and reality. He just woke up one day and told me Dorothy had been over. And he wanted to know when she would come again.

For three days now, every little thing is about Dorothy. What would Dorothy think of this? What would Dorothy say about that? Would Dorothy like to eat this? Could I share this with Dorothy? What does Dorothy say when she goes to the doctor? Is Dorothy ticklish? Can Dorothy come to Thanksgiving dinner with us? Does Dorothy like crystals? Will Dorothy be here to help us put up the Christmas tree?

So yeah, it's cute. Until it starts breaking your heart. Tonight, we were in a department store in the toy section. 'Maybe there'll be a Dorothy dolly here that takes off her shoes and socks?' he says, so hopeful.

Then William stops a woman and asks her if she's seen Dorothy. She looks at him blankly. 'Dorothy Gale', I fill in helpfully. 'Yeah, Dorothy Gale is her name!' William says. 'Have you seen her?'

'You mean Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz?' the woman asks.
'Yes! That's her!' William says. 'Have you seen her?'
The woman is kind and she plays along. 'No, I don't really think she's from around here but if I see her I will tell her you are looking for her.'

We go to California Tortilla for dinner and while I'm ordering William's burrito, he tells the clerk we need an extra burrito... for Dorothy. I shake my head at her. No extra burrito.

'But Dorothy is hungry! And she might be here soon!' All through our dinner, William asks when Dorothy is coming. 'If she comes, ' I say, 'I promise I will buy her a burrito.'

I swear my heart is about to break. I don't want to tell him she is not real. Much less go into that whole Judy Garland thing. He is three years old. He has such a wonderful, vivid imagination. I know kids have imaginary friends but this is somehow different. Normally, the kid with the friend can see the friend, and no one else can. In this version, the kid is waiting for the friend to show up and the friend is not only not coming, but the kid can't understand why.

So Dorothy Gale, if you're out there somewhere, it would be great if you could take a side trip off your little yellow brick road and stop by to play with my child.

Eventually, we did find a Dorothy that takes off her shoes and socks. Here she is pictured with a few of her friends and without her shoes and socks. Actually, don't know where the shoes and socks are.

Conversations about death; continued.

I wonder what goes on inside William's head sometimes. This morning he asked me 'Did you go to Big Man's funeral Mommy?'

It is so very sweet to me that if one day the entire E Street Band should turn up unannounced for tea and toast, my child would not bat an eyelid. At this point, Bruce and the band are just so much white noise in the background of his little life. Why on earth wouldn't I go to Big Man's funeral? (Larger than life sax player Clarence Clemons passed away suddenly last June after a stroke).

'No', I said. 'I did not go'.
'Does everyone have a funeral?' he asked.
'Most people have funerals, yes.'
'Well, you're coming to MY funeral aren't you?'

Me: I really, REALLY hope and pray that I never have to go to your funeral, my love.
William (indignant): WHAT? You won't come to MY funeral? WHY NOT? I swear, he was about to cry.

OK. So, life lesson #2344556. I try my best to explain. If things go according to plan, the parents will die before the children because they are older and have already lived their lives when God decides it's time. The children need their own time to grow old and live their lives before they die. That's the circle of life. If the child dies first, it usually means something super bad has happened.

William: So, you would cry if you had to go to my funeral?

Me: Child, you have no idea how much I would cry. In fact, I'm pretty sure I would need my own funeral my heart would be so broken.

William: Oh, so we'd be together anyway, right? You wouldn't be crying for long! And I bet we'd see Big Man up there in heaven too!

He moves happily onto the next thing that pops into his head but he has unwittingly tapped into my greatest fear. I don't know if other mothers are like me but from the moment I first held him in my arms I have (very) often been paralyzed by the thought that I might lose him. Dire Scenarios R Us. I am genius at this. The car that slams into us while we wait at a light. The truck on the highway that gets too close, clips our car at speed and sends us careening down an embankment to a fiery end. Except I survive. The fall off a bed that snaps a spine. The maniac who kidnaps him in Walmart*. The fatal disease that blindsides us. And so on in that jolly manner.

Before anyone feels the need to enlighten me, I am aware this is a completely useless skill set. And it's not like I set aside time each day to dwell on the many ways things could go belly up around here. These thoughts come unbidden and when I catch myself projecting doom I try hard to make myself stop.

I think it happens because I am acutely aware of my blessings. And I know that unspeakable crap happens to good people sometimes.

I know one other thing. I am thankful William has the framework of the concept of Heaven to work with at this tender age. Some people think this is perpetuating a fairytale but you know, to each his own. With no Heaven to contemplate, how do you help a child make sense of life and death when their inevitable questions come? How do you make sense of it for yourself for that matter? I am truly interested. What do people tell their children about suffering and death if they don't believe in a higher power or the hereafter? That shit just happens and then you're gone? I don't buy it.

*Why do I single out Walmart as a venue for child stealing? Oh, no particular reason.  I could just as easily have said Target. But. I. Didn't. 

Clarence and Bruce. Things will never be the same without you, Big Man. 

I don't know why, but this made me laugh :)