Time and Anya

I"m talking up Hyampom to Anya to get her to get excited about coming next summer. I promise horseback riding, rafting, picnics, campfires and so on. She got so excited tonight she wanted to start packing--"Are we leaving tomorrow? My horse will be named, Menemsha" This is a beach on Martha's Vineyard she has decided would make a good horse name. There is so much innocence here, I tear up. No, I explain. We won't be packing tonight. And I launch into a litany of holidays that will have to happen first, birthdays, and Christmas and my comings and goings and finally arrive at Easter, spring, and then summer. It will be a long long time. She will be four years old. "Day just keep coming" she says, questioning. I say, "Yes they just keep coming" . She jumps up and down, understanding, I imagine, something about time. I continue, expansively, "Yes, days just keep coming until the earth goes away". I'm thinking about vast expanses of time. Silence. "Where will we live when the earth goes away? We'll have houses, right?" I say, "Oh no problem, we'll all be fine when the earth goes away." More jumping up and down in excitement. This segues into her future life. She will be a big person; she might want to marry' she might have babies; she might grow old like grammy. She begins to look doubtful. Then brightening, "Will I have another name when I'm big?" I tell her when she's big she can use any name she wants. She likes that. Jumping up and down. " I will be Koca"