He’s quite quirky like that. Let me tell you why.
When my mother died, my son who was the grandchild closest to my mother, the one who got to spend so much time with her, had a hard time dealing with his grief.
He was barely five years old and ofcourse being so young, and experiencing such a big big loss and heartbreak at such a tender age was something so confusing to him. He didn’t know how to handle the sadness, he didn’t even understand what he was feeling.
We had to explain the concept of death to a boy who loved his grandmother to the moon and back.
At first he thought angels in heaven come back after resting, he jumped up and down after seeing my mother’s car in the garage. “Lulay is back mama she’s back you have to go back she’s inside her house”, he screamed.
He would often tell his playmates about his grandmother and how his grandmother would pick him up from school and take him to the mall to buy chocolates after class.
One time he asked me curious “Where’s Lulay Mama? Where did she go? Why did she leave us?”
So to pacify him I told him she’s up there. I told him that when our loved ones die they become angels in heaven, and then they become stars so they can watch over us.
“All those stars are dead loved ones of all the people mama?” He asked.
“Yes, and the brightest, biggest one is your Lulay,” I told him.
So everytime we’d go home late from a trip, after getting off the car he would look up the sky and wave goodnight to the stars.
“Goodnight Lulay!” he would say outloud smiling.
Tonight when we opened the door leading to our balcony, my son ran out to say hi to the stars.
“Hello Lulay,” he greeted.
“What are you doing up there? Do you want to play rock paper scissors?” He said while shaking his closed fist before waving goodbye to the stars and running back inside.
I know he misses his grandmother as much as I do. And if talking to stars thinking it’s his Lulay brings him comfort, I’d let him do that for as long as he needs to.