I prefer to assume it's normal, so if it's not, lie to me. I need to think that the fact that Alexis occasionally worries about me dying is a totally and completely normal thing. The alternative is to think that maybe she's crazy or maybe she's psychic, and no thank you. I'd rather not. Normal it is!
Every once in a while, Alexis will have a nightmare about me dying. And every once in a while, she will plead desperately with me to not die. The pleading is accompanied by sobbing and hugs and intense fear. It's truly a very pitiful thing. It happens often enough for me to not be shocked when it happens, but it does not happen often enough for me to come up with a good response. Instead I just sort of fumble through the moment. Which, now that I'm thinking about it, might very well be why she won't let it go.
Anyway. Normal. Right? RIGHT.
(GO WITH ME ON THIS. I already have enough issues with death and blah, blah, blah. I need not write another chapter about THAT.)
Today was yet another one of those days when Alexis' mind took a wrong turn and landed her on the topic of death. I don't know why, I just know that she came home from cheerleading and was on her way upstairs to take a shower when she looked over her shoulder, locked eyes with me, and said, "Momma, please don't die until after I do."
I threw something shiny at her instead of really replying because what I wanted to say was OH HELL NO. Unless we're talking about her living to the age of 80, which means me living until the age of 110, OH HELL NO. I go first. That is not a negotiable item.
This is the kind of stuff nobody warns you about when you become a parent.
