What is love at three?

How does a preschooler understand the complexities of love?

One of Will’s teachers was notified during school on Monday that her husband had been killed in a car accident. Just like that. Right before the holidays. Even with the strength of youth, the support of community, and the love of many, how does one survive that kind of loss? How can this terrible thing happen to someone so good, giving, and patient? I do not understand.

Will had questions, too. Thankfully, a social worker had provided talking points for how to address our kids’ questions… not that I had read it with enough detail. I had to wing it on gut and distant training, keeping my own stuff under control. He wanted to know if we could find children “to give Miss. Kynisha since hers got killed by the car.” So, first we talked about people, how we are irreplaceable, nontransferable. “If I lost you, Will,” I told him, “not even a hundred children could take your place.” It occurred to me that maybe he was struggling with understanding relationships and maybe he had placed the event and seeing his teacher so upset within the context of a relationship he could understand: one that involves a child. I tried to address it. I explained that Kynisha’s husband had died, “it would be like if Daddy died. If Daddy died, I would lose my husband.”

“But Daddy is a DADDY, not a husband.”

“Well, Daddy is a Daddy AND a husband. He is YOUR Daddy and MY husband.”

“Just like Katey is my husband.”

“Kate is your sister, Will. She is your sister.”

“Kate is my sister AND my husband.”

Pause. Refocus on the important parts. “Kate is very important to you. If she died, you would be really sad, right?”

Very very quietly: “Yes.” Then, “Mommy? I need to be quiet now because I feel really really sad for Miss. Kynisha.”

“Me too, Will, me too.”