At Georgia’s kindergarten class this week they’ve been all about Dr. Seuss, in recognition of his birthday. Georgia’s teacher stopped me today when I was picking her up, to let me know that Georgia had been working on a special Seussian project of her own. Namely, writing a letter to Dr. Seuss to tell him that he was dead, and that she loved him.
Sorey Men that I Love
In other words, she’s labelled the hatted figure in the middle as the “Cat in the Hat,” and then written a note direct to his creator reading, “Sorry, man that I love.” She’s sorry because he’s dead, of course.
Der Dr. Seuss
I Like Your Books
I Love You
Other than noting that “Der” is “Dear,” the rest is self-explanatory.
I wondered what she wanted to do with the letter, now that it was done. Georgia looked at me as though it were entirely obvious. “Bury it, of course,” she said.
So we got out a pair of shovels, dug a hole along the back fence in the back yard, and buried the letter, carefully sealed in an envelope of course.
“Now,” Georgia said, a little wistfully, “he’ll know that he’s dead, but that I love him. And like his books.”
You can’t ask for fairer than that. We should all be so lucky to inspire such devotion in a six year old, two decades after we shuffle off this mortal coil.