Grieving Gracefully Around Your Children

I vividly remember the day I found my mom crying in her room. When you’re five, moms seem to hold it together pretty well, so I was confused why a grownup would be tearful. But her grandmother had just died, and she was so very sad. Around that same time, Mr. Hooper on Sesame Street died. Another memory seared into my young mind.

Sesame Street in their infinite wisdom addressed it with an extremely profound episode in which Big Bird didn’t understand that Mr. Hooper wasn’t coming back. And then they never showed re-runs containing Mr. Hooper, so we littles wouldn’t be confused.

Thirty years later, and with a small army of littles living in my own home, we’ve had a bit of death in our family during the last calendar year. First my nephew, who died from complications of acrania moments after birth. And now, this last month, my amazing 95-year-old grandmother.

So, I had a choice to make. I could talk to my children in vagaries and hide my tears, OR I could be real with them.

I chose the latter. Here are some things I think are really important when talking to children about death.

Be honest about what you believe about eternity. We might disagree about this, but I think our children need to know what their mamas and daddies believe to be truth. In our family, we openly talk about our faith and what we believe happens after death, like we believe it, because we do. There are a lot of opinions about whether this is okay. I have great friends who present all the possibilities, but in my opinion, children have their whole lives to form their own opinions. While they are under my roof, I will teach them openly what I believe about the afterlife, with the knowledge that they can reject those beliefs when they are older.

Be open about death before it happens. Part of my heart breaks that my oldest had to learn about death so vividly as a four-year-old last summer, when we lost our nephew. We could have easily just ignored my sister’s pregnancy and brushed it under the rug. She was young enough that we could have been really flowery about the whole thing. But, the fact is, he was (baring a miracle) going to die, and we knew it from very early on, and she did, too. Also, he was a life. Not to include our daughter in the knowledge of him, seems to cheapen who he was in this world (even if he was only alive in the womb). The most amazing thing that came from our honesty with her about his short life, was that she truly enjoyed him and loved him while he was here, even though we never saw him face to face. My sister told me that it was our daughter who kissed and loved Silas wholeheartedly long before his death, who made her take time to truly embrace the short life growing within her.

Grieve openly. I believe that it is our vulnerability in life that fosters our deepest relationships. Our children need to see their parents living life authentically. They need to know their feelings are legitimate and it’s okay to cry and be weak and real. It’s okay to HURT! While my husband and I don’t make it an every day practice to air all of our dirty laundry in front of our children, we also don’t go out of our ways to hide our emotions behind closed doors. This has already given us an avenue to discuss difficult things with them — including grief, death, disagreements, and sickness. It’s okay to be sad in front of your children. My girls know that I loved my grandmother with all of my heart, so they saw/see me mourn her. The know we still miss Silas, and sometimes we will be openly sad that he is not with us. They know it is safe and okay for them to mourn, too — big and little things.

Let’s be honest — death sucks. I hate it. I hate it more than words can even begin to convey. I didn’t lose anyone close to me until I was 26, so I’m still figuring out this grief thing. However, death is life. And like most things, we choose to use it as a learning experience.