Death and Dinosaurs

As someone with absolutely no "maternal instinct" and no wish or desire to ever procreate I count myself lucky that I will hopefully never have to explain death to a child.  Children terrify me and the idea that I would be responsible for teaching a little human being about things that could potentially scar it for life is truly bloodcurdling.

Image Source: Chattahbox.com

My own education surrounding death is somewhat convoluted. My parents tell me that I learned of death in what they consider the predominant fashion, through the church. However, they also remember that the idea of death I first developed was somewhat warped. Apparently they first sat me down to talk about death after I threw a tantrum while visiting Drumheller.  My demands for a pet dinosaur could not be dissuaded by their state of distinction.  I argued that if Jesus could die and come back so could a brontosaurus. Or, like the photo, they could come back together! Death, in my 5 year-old mind, was temporary and you either came back again or went to heaven which was just like real life only better (it definitely had dinosaurs!).

Image Source: Amazon.ca

These days there are a plethora of resources for parents or any adults to use when preparing to talk to children about death.  I googled "children death" and came up with whole guides to explaining death to your child.  And if you're feeling particularly overwhelmed or inept there are even whole libraries of books to use!  Lifetimes is one that I recently came across in a book drive and gave to my cousin to read to her children after their cat, Seagram, passed away.

Reading the comments on this book's Amazon page prompted me to think about the ways death is perceived and explained by people.  Usually I refrain from reading internet comments due to their alarming predisposition to decline toward indecency and simple stupidity. This time, however, the comments pointed out what I believe to be perhaps the biggest factor that influences our ideology surrounding death - religion! Despite my relatively religious upbringing I consider myself today an atheist, or perhaps more aptly, a humanist. I no longer believe in an afterlife and instead view death as the end of being. Nothing more, nothing less. When I die, my neurons will cease firing and I will no longer exist.  This is something I have embraced but I feel would have difficulty sharing with a child.  In some ways the idea of heaven is the perfect addition to death.  It takes away the oblivion which I believe in and replaces it with a paradise to look forward to. Plus with heaven comes hell, the threat of which is sure to make most children behave!