Jo Eberhardt, Mother of two
When my son was 4 years old, we were lying down together so he could have a nap. He’d been quiet and still for a few minutes, so I assumed he’d gone to sleep. Suddenly he said: “Mummy, if I die before you do, I’m just going to wait until you die and then get born again and grow up so you can be my Mummy again next time.”
“Really, Sweetie?” I asked, feeling both touched by the depth of his love, and a little freaked out by the unexpected topic.
“Yes,” he said, snuggling closer to me. “Just like I did last time.”