The Neverending Top Ten #8 - Remembering The Soldiers

When I picked Sam up from nursery on Thursday evening, he paid special attention to the poppy I was wearing on my coat. I prepared myself for an awkward conversation...

For a long time - like a lot of parents do, I suppose - I have avoided addressing the subject of death with Sam as it's a concept young children struggle to get their heads around. Hell, it's a concept I struggle to get my head around. When he was younger, that was easy. You deflect, you talk about other things, you hope you can protect him from the harsh realities of the world for as long as you can. Of course, short of keeping your child in a bubble, you can't stop the world from finding its way in to their heads. We first noticed this a few months ago when Sam told us a story about a deer he had when he was a baby, that he kept in the garden, but it was dead now. I don't know where the story came from - probably something one of his friends at nursery had said - but it soon became clear that his young mind was trying to come to terms with the concept.

Then Molly died and we could avoid the truth no more. Louise, being an atheist, was keen not to fill his head with ideas of heaven. I, having grown up with religion but considering myself more of an agnostic ("an atheist who is hedging his bets"), wasn't so sure. But just as you can't protect them from the truth of the world, you can't shield them from other people's ideas either.

"Molly's chasing mice in Heaven," my sister told him. Sam pretty much ignored her and carried on playing. But a couple of weeks later it became clear he'd heard something similar from his friends... and really, it's up to him to make up his own mind about such things when he's older. The concept of an afterlife was a comfort to me when I was younger and I still cling to the idea that the soul is something that lives beyond the death of the body, though I don't subscribe to any specific religious dogma... I think the reality is something beyond our capability to properly grasp. Wow, deep, huh? Or just hedging my bets.

After Molly's death, the inevitable questions followed. "Will you die, daddy?" "Will mummy? "Will I?" We tried to answer them as best we could. As best as anyone can, religious or not. Not for a very, very long time... (I hope!)

Anyway, the poppy. When Sam noticed it, I braced myself for another of those conversations... but it turns out I needn't have worried.

"We made a poppy at nursery," he told me on the way home.

"Oh," I said. "Did you talk about what it was for?"

"To remember the soldiers," he said.

We talked about it a little more, about how the soldiers had died to save us from bad men who wanted to hurt us, then we went back to listening to our songs on the car stereo. A little later I noticed he was quiet and asked if he was OK.

"I'm just remembering the soldiers," he replied. "I don't need a poppy to do that. I can just be quiet and remember them when I want."

Yesterday morning, before watching Paddington 2, there was a minute's silence in the cinema. This morning we turned on the TV just before 11 to observe the two minute's silence at the Cenotaph. Sam stayed quiet for both. I'm not saying I think he understands now what Remembrance Day is all about, but he understands as much as a 4 year old can. Just like I try to understand, as much as a 45 year old can.

8. Radiohead - Harry Patch (In Memory Of)

Here's a song I haven't yet put on one of Sam's CDs. I will when he's older.

I am the only one that got through
The others died where ever they fell
It was an ambush
They came up from all sides
Give your leaders each a gun and then let them fight it out themselves