People talk about the “birds and the bees” discussions, about “the talk” in African American families, and so on. But somehow I never expected to have to explain this, although it seems obvious in retrospect. (I guess my oldest two kids figured it out some other way, or asked their mom.)
Our seven year old daughter heard someone use the word “dead” and asked:
DAUGHTER: What’s “dead”?
ME: [caught flatfooted but trying to think quickly yet speak carefully] “Dead” means a person or an animal stops working. They can’t breathe or talk any more and they might get buried in the ground. It’s sad and people miss them. Like Lucky [her grandparents’ dog, who died a couple years ago]. You used to love to play with him, but now he’s dead. It’s okay to be sad about it: Grandma Nancy and Grandpa Brian were sad, and so were Mama and I.
DAUGHTER: [Thinks for a bit] Lucky’s not dead. He’s at Brandon and Nicole’s house or something.
MY WIFE: Oh, honey. Maverick’s not at your aunt and uncle’s house. He died, sweetheart. Grandpa Brian dug a hole in the ground in the back yard and buried him in it.
My son was probably four when his great-grandpa died and we had this talk. He understood it pretty well and took it fine…right up until he asked who all dies. Well, son, everyone dies eventually. And the look on his face when he realized he was going die was just heartbreaking. I felt awful. But I didn’t want to feed him some BS that I’d have to walk back later.
Yeah, I wondered if she was going to ask this. I remember having serious existential angst at about age nine after a character on a TV show died. I don’t know if that’s what is going through her mind now.
2012 we had 4 family members die. The Lil’wrekkers 3 grandparents and one uncle. She was 12 years old so we talked her ( and older sibs ) through it and answered all her questions as honestly as we could. Of course we were grieving too, I am pretty sure we messed up on some of it. Anyway we got through all the funerals and crap you have to do, stopped and took a breath. My Sons 1st baby was born, we were all excited and happy. We thought things were grand going into the holidays. And, low and behold my VERY old (20?) dog went to sleep and never woke up. The lil’wrekker was devastated by this death. She had known the dog her whole life, she’s basically an only child, her sibs being a good bit older, so the dog was like a sister to her. It was horrible, I couldn’t console her. She cried for days. We had to get her into therapy for about a year. The therapist said all the deaths so close together made her numb, the dog dying just opened the wound. And we thought the whole time, we were handling it. You just can never tell about kids and death. Talk, talk, talk. And let them vent, cry and ask you about a million questions. If things are still bad, seek out a therapist.
Once I was in a cemetery and overheard a little girl say to her mom, “There’s a mistake on this tombstone! It says 1900 to 1905, but that can’t be right. That would me she died when she was a little girl.” There was a pause. The mother knelt down and whispered to her daughter for a few moments. The girl shrieked, “WHAT!”
My brother said I was four when I realized that people will stop living. He said that, when I asked my mom and dad if they would die, too, and they answered in the affirmative, I went berserk I was wailing and screaming over and over that I didn’t want them to die. I’ve often wondered if, somehow, I had some kind of premonition because, in just 12 years, they would both be dead.
Our son died at the age of 30 leaving behind a 4 year old son and a almost 3 year old daughter (ages at the time of his death). He fought cancer for 2-1/2 years so the kids really only knew him as being sick. When he died they were told he died from cancer. That he was very sick and the doctors couldn’t do anything anymore. They seemed to understand it as much as little kids can comprehend it. But my oh my, the questions…questions that they still ask. They are now 7 and almost 6. They are very matter of fact about it. They don’t seem to be scared or anything but wow some of those questions are hard to answer. Our son was cremated. We haven’t explained that to them yet. That seems kind of harsh and scary to explain. But when we drive past the funeral home/cemetery we had his service they always say, “remember when daddy was there?” (he had been cremated before the service so they never actually saw him). Then they ask if he’s under the ground, he isn’t, I have his ashes at home but if I tell them that I would have to explain cremation to them. I don’t think any of us are ready for that. So I just say he went to heaven. Maybe that’s wrong, but I feel they don’t need to know all of the gory details yet. Then they ask “who’s under the ground at the cemetery?” I told them, old people! A neighbor of theirs was killed in a car accident and the police came to the home to tell the wife. They saw the police and found out why they were there. So they asked me, “did the police come to tell you that daddy died?” I told them no, that daddy died at home (my house). Then they wanted to know how I knew he was dead! I told him that when I woke up he wasn’t breathing anymore. Then they asked what he looked like, was he just bones? I tell them that daddy and the doctors worked so hard to make him better, but they just couldn’t anymore. That his body just wore out. Then we talk about heaven. Then a whole different set of questions come up. What does heaven look like, what do you do in heaven, is there hockey in heaven, how about bees? I tell them that heaven has everything that you love to do. That it’s the most beautiful place ever, so beautiful that you can’t even imagine. They are happy with that. They said that I will get to see daddy before them…probably!
Oh man, losing a child (even an adult one) before you go…I can’t even imagine. So sorry for your loss.
I wondered if someone would mention heaven. My wife and I are atheists, so that wasn’t an option. My in-laws however are very religious and probably think it’s awful to tell their granddaughter what we did (given that we also talked about her great-grandfather who died about three years ago). I can’t deny it would be more comforting…
That’s why you start with a goldfish from the county fair. You’re guaranteed to have to explain death in a minimally-painless way within a couple of days.
ETA: Flushing the fish could cause some confusion.
FWIW, some adults also struggle with it. A friend of mine had a very difficult time after losing both of his parents within a few months of each other; visiting a therapist has helped him to deal with it.
From my experience: better that explanation comes from the adults in a child’s life. When I was around 6 or 7 a slightly older friend told me about bodies rotting and being eaten by worms. I can still remember the nightmares I had.
I explained to our two the Mark Twain response. That there’s nothing to fear about death and that it’ll be just like the time before you were born. They seemed very happy with that (they’ve not been brought up religious so afterlifes seem like a strange idea to them anyway)
Nice. I remember as a young child thinking I had come up with this notion, knowing nothing about Twain. At that time it seemed like I could palpably “remember” there being oblivion before I was so recently born. Later I could remember having that feeling, but not how it felt—if that makes sense.
Yes, she is 18. She has very vivid memories of that horrible Christmas. We got her a Yorkie puppy for Xmas that year, it helped to ease some of the puppy grief. But, really therapy was a blessing. I don’t know what we would’ve done without that option. It is almost a must, IMO.
I’m surprised to hear it’s possible to live any substantial fraction of 7 years without knowing the meaning of this word.
What about the animal carcasses occasionally seen at the side of the road? What about those bugs smashed on the windshield? What about the meat and veggies on your plate at dinner?
