April 12th, 2026
We were getting ready to go to Mass this morning. As always, it takes Asher an excessive amount of time to get himself dressed. Five-year-olds are easily distracted. He was almost to the last step in the process, that of putting his jacket on. Then he started talking,
“Oma, I hope that you and Grandpa don’t die soon. I don’t want you to die while I’m little. I don’t want to have to find a new family.”
That was kind of morbid, but Asher was thinking exactly what I have been thinking for quite a while. Karin and I are old, and the possibility of one or both of us dying is very real. I just didn’t realize that Asher shared our concerns.
I thought that I could comfort him. I told Asher,
“Oma and I will be here as long as you need us.”
Asher replied fiercely, “You don’t get to decide that!”
He walked up to me and said, “Grandpa, you don’t get to decide to keep living just because somebody else wants you. God decides when you die.”
“Uh yeah.”
He went on, “God is in charge of that. You know?”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
It was time to hustle Asher into the car. I got him in his seat. As I was doing that, I wondered, “Where does he get all this?”
Asher can be shockingly mature. He seems to have no illusions about how death works. I was told once that some children are born with old souls. Asher is apparently one of those kids.
Frank is Emptiness 