Frith O’Steen

My son and I had our first real conversation about the concept of mortality tonight. He’s 5, I know it’s an age appropriate thing, but I still had been dreading this for a couple of years now. It came up as we were making dinner together, and it actually was very sweet and flowed as organically as I suppose it could have. But still, tough. My friend’s mom passed away yesterday after a long illness, and the topic arose when I told him conversationally that I was going to be working in the nursery this week while my friend was out of town. The last time I did this, he knew that her mom was sick, so he asked if she was sick again. I took a deep breath, and answered him that no, actually, our friend’s mom had died. He asked did that mean was she broken? Oh man. I told him what I had kinda rehearsed in my head for this conversation, and said that all living things live for a long time, and then when we get old we stop living. I told him he was really lyoung still and that he didn’t need to think about that for a long time. He registered this information and  then informed he was never going to die. (I am holding back tears as this whole chat goes down, btw). I said, well, everyone does someday, but again - he doesn’t have to think about it for a long time. I told him then that after you die, no one knows exactly where you go, and that some people call it heaven, but that I believe that we all get to be with our family after we die just like when we’re alive. I didn’t want to give too many details, and freak him out, and you gotta love the kid because his next sentence was, and I quote: “We need onions, Mommy! We almost forgot the onions!”. I love 5 year olds.

Later on this evening he asked some more basic questions from his dad and I separately (luckily Sean heard our conversation while he was ‘napping’ on the couch, and was very supportive about what I had said to him), and I think I reassured him but I know it’s gonna come up again. I can only hope that I answered him truthfully and still gave him enough reassurance so that he won’t start worrying about it too much.  I know this is one of the basics of life, and everyone has to learn about their own mortality at some point. But tonight it feels like my little boy lost a bit of his innocence, and I had to be the one to do it. That just completely sucked. I would so much rather have been having the sex talk with him!

So on Tuesday night, I’ll admit it - they announced Barack Obama would be our next president, and I immediately jumped up and screamed quite joyfully. After the past eight years watching our country become so incredibly damaged both domestically and internationally, I had almost given up hope that we could begin to turn a new page and rebuild our sense of community and fairness and possibility.  I was in the tank for Obama early on - he is so dang intelligent, well-spoken, measured, thoughtful…I’m thrilled our country finally went for those characteristics rather than what we have settled for with this past administration. People finally stood up and said, “No more! We won’t let you do this to us anymore!”. And I’m so excited that my children were alive to see history made - I’m hoping Decker especially will remember how engaged (ok, obsessed, in the case of his mom) his parents were in this election and the issues, and how excited we were to explain to him what it means to have picked a new leader for our country. We’re one step closer to being able to say, “Anyone can grow up to become president”. (Once we elect our first female president, then I’ll feel I can say it absolutely).

But…my celebration over this election is tempered by what happened out here in CA. Namely, the passing of Prop 8. I am so sad that some of my friends have now essentially been told by voters that they are not full citizens, that their civil rights are not quite equal to their fellow Californians, and that their loving relationships are not considered ‘real’ in a legal sense. I’m actually very happy right now that my sons are not old enough to understand this part of the election, because I think it would really confuse them. Why can their mom and dad be officially married, but some of their friends’ parents can’t? Just as their dad and I grew up in a post-MLK era, where it seemed strange to hear in history class about the idea that some of our classmates would not have been allowed to go to school with us in years past based on their race, it’s my hope that my sons will feel that way some day when they hear about legislation that was targeted against the lgbt community. As in, “Wow, how could people have ever said that was ok?”.

My heart is aching right now for my friends who are directly affected by this legislation, and I hope the legal fight is effective and swift. This is a civil rights issue, and I can’t quite celebrate the new day for our country when my home state is taking away people’s basic rights.

So…yay Obama, but boo prop (h)8!