Notes from a Year Ago, After Putting Boy to Bed

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Who’s up tonight?
“Um, Wolverine. From the beginning, OK, Papa?”
OK. Wolverine was born a long, long time ago. He’s older than Grandpa’s grandpa.
“Where’s Grandpa’s grandpa now?”
He died.
“Why?”
Because everyone dies.
“I don’t want to die! …Will you die?”
Yes, eventually.
“Why?”
It’s natural. But it’s OK. We enjoy people while they’re alive.
“But why do people die?”
I don’t know.
“How do people die?”
In lots of ways. Sometimes just old age, but sometimes a disease, or an accident. Lots of ways.
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“Papa?”
Yes?
“I’m scared of monsters.”
You don’t need to be. There are no monsters, not in the whole wide world. They’re just a story.
“But where the Powerpuff Girls live, there’s monsters.”
Powerpuff Girls are just a story too.
“I’m scared of the Hulk, though.”
The Hulk is just a story.
“But he comes to Canada, right?”
That’s also just a story. A story I made up for you.
“Are we just a story?”
I don’t think so. But we tell lots of stories.
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“Papa?”
Yes?
“We’re both the same superhero.”
Really?
“Yeah, we both have many arms—soft arms to help people, and hard arms to fight bad guys. Listen!”
…What?
“Someone’s crying.”
Where?
“Somewhere. Stretch your soft arms like this, really wide.”
Like this?
“Now it’s OK.”
Will the person crying feel the soft arms?
“No. It just feels like a blanket.”

3 thoughts on “Notes from a Year Ago, After Putting Boy to Bed

  1. Thank you, Shaula. I wrote these notes out in a hurry a year ago, then rediscovered them just this last week. I love that Boy went with the feeling of blankets. And that he asked if we’re just a story.

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