“Grandma isn’t coming back home.”
- Death is final and its permanence is a very difficult subject, with or without your family beliefs. If a kid is old enough to have a conversation, she is old enough for the truth. Find the words that fit her age.
When Daniel was seven and my mother-in-law died at home of an illness, he said, “They shot her.” He thought she died from a gunshot. I explained softly it was not that kind of shot. He may have overheard that doctors gave her an injection, a shot of painkiller.
Guerilla Tip: Start addressing the death of family member very slowly.
Say, “You know Grandma was very sick.” Wait to hear a response that shows readiness for more. If not, stop immediately and continue later. “They tried, but nobody could fix her.” Wait for another response. Softly explain that the situation will not reverse itself, “She won’t be coming back home.”
If the kid is lost, offer your feelings as a starting point, “We’re all sad,” or, “We pray for her,” or perhaps, “We are happy she is free,” but only if that is what you truly believe. Honestly, happy-free would not work for me.
- Bypassing the nonsensical lies
Because made-up stories will not buy any serenity here, avoid the following masquerades:
- “God loved Grandma so much that he took her close to him.”
—Your kid will hope God loves him a lot less, and will work hard to make sure.
- “She’s sleeping.”
—Your kid will not be closing his eyes anytime soon.
- “She went for a long vacation.”
—Your kid will not be packing for that trip.
You may be able to say, “We are happy she is no longer in pain.” You can certainly say, “We will always miss her, love her, remember her.”
- Handling Unexpected Questions
After a death in the family, a kid may ask, “Will you die?” One interpretation is that the kid is worried about more death coming up. Although we will all die, don’t just say yes.
Guerilla Tip: If a kid asks, “Will you die?” say, “Not for many years. Why do you ask?”
When a kid is worried, it is a delicate moment—not the time to say the obvious, honest truth. Do you think a kid is asking about human mortality? An educated guess is that the reason for the question is, “Any more losses I have to brace for?” If you can, give a simple, reassuring answer like no. If you have health problems that your kid is already aware of, this might still not be the time to say you are not doing well. Rather, try for “I am doing my best, and the doctor is hopeful.”
Guerilla Tip: Make sure you understand every odd question your kid asks. The odder the question, the bigger the payoff when you get to the bottom of what the kid really wants to know.
As Maryanne M. of Atlanta, GA says, wait. Probe further to find out what the question means to your kid. Don’t answer a hard question mindlessly and, maybe, don’t just answer right away.
- Choosing appropriateness
My own kids joined me for a quiet visit to a cemetery on the day after a burial, for the closure it could bring the kids and for the chance to address concerns they had.
I was brought to a burial when I was six. Usually, my father would bring me along to visit mourners in their houses, not to the cemetery. He would talk to them about sports he knew little about or about the departed, preferably.
Guerilla Tip: Teach your kids to watch the lead of the bereaved, and if they need the distraction of sports talk, so be it.
At the burial I attended, a never-married middle-aged woman, Fanny S. of Bayside, NY, screamed out at the moment the casket was lowering into the ground, “Mama, why are you leaving us?” That is really too much for a six-year-old to see and hear. Since such intensity can occur at a gravesite, and that was not my family, I did not need to be brought at all. However, the cry was not too much for me to bear after all; it fascinated me. I suppose I could have used a debriefing with my father later, but we never discussed it. It was…an experience.
- Starting an Imaginary Conversation
Occasionally, I took my landlady Mary K. of Highland Park, NJ to the cemetery “to visit Pete.” Knowing perfectly well he was gone, she would plant flowers, say a prayer and talk to her late husband.
On one visit there, I walked over to some trees to talk to my own mother, resting in a cemetery far away in Jerusalem. Because of travel circumstances the year before, I had arrived after my mother’s burial. In this way I got the closure I had missed.
Guerilla Tip: Whether by earth or by heaven, all cemeteries must be connected spiritually.
Years later when an old friend died, I needed comfort from the older generation. With my parents gone, I went to see Mary in a nursing home and planned to tell her of my grief. However, her memory was not at its best, and my issue did not really pertain to her. I walked out the door without addressing it.
On the way to my car, it struck me that I could have the same conversation I came for anyway, roaming the parking lot alone. After ‘telling’ Mary my bad news, I imagined the best possible responses. Validations beyond what she might actually have said, but the ideal words I needed to hear. One of the best conversations I had, ever, imaginary or not.
Guerilla Tip: Assuming your kid has a solid grasp of reality, see if you want to introduce the idea of an imaginary conversation, picturing how an absent party might react—as long as it is understood as imagination.
