A Heavy Topic from a Sleep-Deprived Mama. Enter at your own risk.

Driving home from the grocery store today, I related to my husband how a friend had posted on facebook some of the questions her 7 year-old son was asking about radiation, and how it may affect us.  Here on the west coast, there is lots of buzz about radiation coming over from Japan on the weather, raining on our heads.  People are buying iodine, talking about eating more seaweed and brown rice.  I'm doing my best to ignore it, and live in this moment, in gratitude.

I think of the people of Japan, who 2 weeks ago were driving home from the grocery store themselves with their kids having conversations with their spouse, unaware that shortly they may have no car, no spouse, no kids, or no home to drive to.  It is horrible to contemplate, even more frightening to think the same could happen to us. I don't want to ignore their suffering.  But I can only look at it for so long, too, before I need to turn back to my life and breathe in. 

I remarked to my husband that no kid should have to be asking about radiation, or even be aware of such a threat.  I said, "Back 300 years ago, that would have happened in Japan and we would have had no idea.  Now, we have a window to it right in our living room.  But how do little minds take in all that information?  I struggle to take it in myself."  He related that he remembered growing up during the Cold War, with the threat of nuclear annihilation at the press of a button, and that had been part of his childhood worries.  "I guess, 300 years ago, a kid may have been aware of other things," I said.  "Drought jeopardizing their crops, the fear of freezing in winter."  "Scurvy, consumption, tuberculosis," listed Sean.  "Childbirth," I added. 

There's no escape from the fact that we are all vulnerable.  Not just to plagues, natural or man-made disasters.  We were vulnerable just then driving down the road at high speed in a car.  I think having a new baby has my awareness of how fragile life is heightened.  (Obviously, since I keep writing about vulnerability.  Sorry my readers. I promise next time I'll just post a nice recipe.)  Any day could be our last, but we can't walk around holding that unthinkable thought in our minds or how would we be able to live?  And then again, when we are reminded of our impermanence, we appreciate our lives that much more deeply. 

What are your thoughts on all this? Or do you try not to think about it (oops, sorry.)  How do you handle your children's questions and fears when they become aware of tragedy and loss?  

Here's a little Jack Johnson to put you right after a heavy post.  But on topic, too, in a way.  "Black and white and right and wrong, only live inside a song."