Our little community has been struck by an unimaginable amount of tragedy these past few weeks.
Whether you knew none or all of the people or families involved, the weight on the community as a whole is tangible.
I, like many other parents or caregivers this past week I’m sure, spent a significant amount of time researching how to help my child understand and cope with the topic of death.
My 8-year-old daughter encountered her first experience with death. She attended her first funeral, except for the funeral of her step-great-grandmother, but she was too young to remember that.
I, unfortunately, have my fair share of experience with death, most of which has happened during my childhood. And, I do not remember any serious conversation about death during that time.
My great-grandmother Litchy died in 2003, and her Catholic funeral was a new experience for me regarding rituals.
My other great-grandmother died three months later and great-grandfather three years later. All three led long lives and left fond memories, and they still come up.
I told my husband just the other day even though I have horrible eyesight, I have never had a problem threading a needle because grandma Litchy would always ask me to thread hers.
In 2008, when I was 16, my family experienced some of the worst tragedies you can imagine, and I was trying to understand how people could be taken before their time. Those deaths — like many in these last two weeks here — were exceptionally heavy. Death is ever easy, but some circumstances are harder to cope with or understand.
In 2011, I lost my dad. That is hard enough, but I didn’t ever think I would be dealing with it at 19 years old. His youngest son was about 5, and day after it happened, I remember him asking at a family gathering, “When is dad coming?”
That moment was soaked in tears, and I will never forget it.
One of the tragedies from this past week involved some of my family friends. Someone who was around when I was growing up. Someone who my daughter knew. They would tell her, “You look and act just like your mom did when she was your age,” and tell her stories from my childhood.
So, when we learned of their passing, I knew I was going to have to tell my daughter, and it was more difficult than I expected.
Kyle and I explained the situation and that it was very sad and that she could ask us questions. We cried for a minute, but then we went about our day.
It was delivery day, so she was with me in the car when we stopped in to give our condolences to the family. Over the next few days, she expressed interest in going to the funeral.
I wasn’t sure at first, but it meant a lot to her. So, the night before the funeral, we sat her down to discuss death, funerals, and grief.
I was prepared with the information I had gathered and made sure Kyle and I were on the same page.
Here are some of the tips I gathered, in hopes that it might help some of you deal with this with your children:
• Remain age appropriate: All children are different, and every family is unique, so use your best judgement in balancing your family beliefs, while staying on your child’s developmental level.
• Be straightforward. While it may seem like it would be the gentle approach to use language like, “they are gone” or “they are sleeping,” those euphemisms can cause distress. Children are very literal, so much so thAt saying someone is “sleeping” may cause anxiety for a child to fall asleep themselves and not wake up. One source I found said it is best to use biological language to explain death, then meld your faith with the facts.
• Be honest and answer questions — even if they are hard to answer. Remember, your child may not want to talk or doesn’t know what to ask, so ask them questions as you go. Don’t push your child to communicate but provide an environment that is safe for them if and when they are ready to engage.
• Prepare them for the rituals that will follow. Those rituals might not follow your families’ beliefs, so prepare them for language or practices that aren’t typical for you. Prepare them for emotions. Children can feel the heaviness of a space, so remind them it is ok to be sad. Prepare them for the things they will see, a casket, maybe an open casket with the deceased body. Also prepare them for what people may do, from crying to hugging to praying, and maybe even laughing.
• Let your child make decisions as best they can. If they do or don’t want to participate, don’t force them. This may be hugging people, attending the funeral or seeing the body if there is an open casket.
• Allow children the space to grieve as they need for themselves. Be ready for changes in sleeping and eating habits, anxiety, fear of being alone or fear of you leaving them. And remember to talk about the loved one. You can tell stories, look at photos and remember that it is OK for you and for them to feel sad when you remember them.
• Seek professional help if you feel it is necessary or if they feel it is necessary. If you struggle with coping, or with what to say and how to deal with death, reach out to mental health resources that can help you help your child.
TroutMom says: To protect our children physically, mentally and emotionally, we are required to meet their physical, mental and emotional needs — especially through the unforeseen or tragic events they will encounter.
Jordan Troutman is the reporter for the Cassville Democrat, a wife, a mother of two daughters, and a student at Capella University majoring in Marriage and Family Therapy.