We found ourselves discovering a very old cemetary on the back side of town on our evening walk tonight.
Bea: What's a cemetary?
Byron: It's a place where people rest once they have died.
Bea: We, you, me, and mommy are going to die. Then we will move to the cemetary.
Me: One day. Not now. Not for a very long time.
Bea: Will we go back to our house after that?
Me: No, we'll turn back to soil.
Bea: Like plants. Like our compost.
Byron and Me: (Nodding) Yes, pretty much like that. Maybe we will become part of a beautiful garden.
Bea: I don't want to die.
Me: I don't want to either. Some people think that inside of our bodies is something called a 'soul'. A soul is the part of us that never dies. It's always here. Only our bodies die. Our souls will always be together.
Bea: In our house.
And that's life with a three year old. So perfectly curious and fearless. So wonderfully open and peaceful. So effortlessly connected to it all. It's as if part of her soul still resides in the heavens above. She humbles me over and over. There are no words to describe the awe and gratitude I feel for being one of the people who gets to have these kinds of conversations with this incredible person.