Keepin' It Real

My son, Cole, ponders often. The other day mid-way through breakfast he said to me, what if the earth's orbit around the sun is like the water that spins around the toilet bowl and is flushed down into the middle? He went on, maybe CO2 emissions are not contributing to global warming, maybe the sun's gravity is pulling the earth towards it? I swallowed my French toast and thought to come up with a good response. My first thought, compliment him on his observations. My second thought, a wise-cracker answer, "well, thank goodness we won't be pulled into the sun in our life time, ha-ha-ha." Unsatisfactory response. His brows were knitted, and our collective unspoken thought was, if the possibility of this were true, it would happen in some one's life time.

Ever since Cole has been little he's been prone to moments of existential crisis. It began when he was very young and would realize suddenly and inconsolably that I was going to die some day. I would hold him while he cried (unless I was driving at the time, and then I would just pat his arm and keep us on the road) and tell him that I will always be here for him. And then, wise-cracker answer, one day when I do pass away, I'll be so old you'll be tired of me and ready for me to go, ha-ha-ha. Unsatisfactory response.

A few months ago I sent Cole in to brush his teeth before bedtime, he complained, I said go. Nothing unusual. One minute later he emerged from the bathroom hysterical. Mom, he uttered, the universe never ends, there is no beginning, there is no end. There is no end to time. If God created the universe, who created God? I held him, I consoled him. I told him most things we know have a beginning and an end, but some things aren't concrete, and they are more difficult to grasp. I told him that where we are right now is concrete, and it is good, and right now is the most important thing to know.

During this time, Brent, Cole's older brother, came in the room. Brent, I said, Cole's having a crisis, help. Ok, Brent thought for a second. "Cole", he answered, "a famous philosopher said, 'we think, therefore we are'." We exist . . . he went on to soothe Cole's roaming mind until he was able to fall asleep. I really don't remember everything he said, I just remember being impressed that Brent was able to swiftly step in and save the evening. He may as well have been wearing a cape. Those are some deep thinking kids. It is interesting to know there is a lot more going on in our kids' minds than what we can ascertain . . .

Hannah told me recently that in fourth grade she worried she was just a character in a book and her life was just a story someone had written. Uhh, and you waited until you were a freshman in high school to tell me about this? I don't always have the right answer for those earth shattering deep thoughts. I guess our job as parents is to just hold on to our kid's ankles and keep their feet close to the earth, and hope that the earth does not crash in to the sun. . . (and yes, the photo above is a picture of a house shaped like a toilet bowl. That blows the mind).