The other day we were in the van coming home from the beach with the girls, when Miss S asked me (for about the millionth time), “how long are you going to stay in Lebanon??” So I explained (again) that we live here now and we will go home to visit our families, but this is our home. I was trying to figure out how to make this stick in her head (she has nightmares about us leaving), so I told her that we would be here so long that I wanted to come to her wedding. She looked at me with this strange look and said,
“Wait. You will be dead by then.”
What?!?! Okay…. maybe she’s thinking she won’t get married for a long time. “When do you think you will get married?” I ask.
“Oh, in three years.” (She’s 12, but that’s another story)
“Three years?!?!” I say, “Okay, let’s say you get married in 6 years. You will be 18, and I will only be 33. That’s not that old, I won’t be dead!”
“Oh, but Amu Charlie (our pastor who is not old at all) will be dead.”
And that was the end of the conversation.
posted by: nicolette