tonight's bedtime chat with 3.5 yo ds involved the following questions from him:
"Mummy, why did Daddy die?"
"Mummy, what sort of box did we put Daddy in?"
"Mummy, why do we put people in the ground when they die? What happens to them? Is it all the body that goes in or do we take the bones out?" 
"Mummy, I wish Daddy was here all day and all the time." 
"Mummy when you and I get old and die, can we be buried with Daddy?" 
DH died when I was pregant with ds (am not new btw, am serial namechanger). ds has never met his father. He doesn't even get to have a photo of himself with his dad.
this is so bloody crappy and hopeless and awful. I am still in pieces about losing my fabulous wonderful DH, and now ds has really started understanding his loss. And I have to cope with answering his questions which is really hard. I don't really want to think about lovely DH in a box, or revisit the funeral in my head.