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It was bound to happen at some point. Dudelet had picked out a book called “Good Days and Bad Days” and we’d reached page three.
“There are happy days,” I read, “and sad days.”
“Why is the little boy sad?” I looked more closely at the picture illustrating ’sad days’. In a lush green landscape, a small boy stands dejectedly next to his daddy. They’re both solemnly regarding a small mound of earth with a miniature wooden cross, possible constructed out of lollipop sticks, stuck in it. The little boy holds an empty hamster cage with a deserted exercise wheel.
“Because…”
“Why?”
“Because…” I hesitate. Dudelet looks at me expectantly. For some crazed reason, I decide that I have to tell the truth.
“Because his pet hamster has died.”
“Why did it die?” I feel a lump, a genuine lump start to form in my throat. So this is what they feel like.
“It was probably very old.”
“Will I die?” The lump is abruptly the size of an plum. It’s difficult to breathe around it.
“We all die eventually.” (NO. NO. Not what I meant to say. Why did I start this?)
“I don’t want to die.” He looks me in the eye, very seriously.
“Well, it’s part of life.” (Oh fabulous. Could I be any more inane if I tried?)
“I’m not going to die,” dudelet says firmly. He looks very determined. I think I’m going to cry. Then he remembers that “Daddy, your daddy was in hopsital?” and it looks like things are going to get very sticky but we get diverted onto issues of geography, cousins and second cousins who aren’t cousins. We finish the book and have cuddles and settle on the right combination of lights. He turns firmly over to go to sleep and I go to sit in the front room and wonder I’m supposed to tell him.
What do I tell him when I really, in the words of Yeats in an unguarded moment, do not know at all?
Filed under: death, parenting | Tagged: telling children about death
Sounds like you did just fine.
It’s always dificult for people who can’t just cop out and say “He’s with god now” (I’m asuming you are one of those people, but no offence if you’re not)
Oh I’m so one of those people, Dan!
I’ve found this very difficult lately (my father-in-law died a couple of months ago and they saw him weekly). So far, both boys (5 and 3) seem satisifed with the explanation that everyone dies when they are very old (we’ve copped out on the possibility of early death). So Chatterboy (the 5 year old) has been explaining to Hungryboy that he (Chatterboy) will die 2 years before him, and they’ve been speculating about which of their grandparents will die next – seemingly in a spirit of scientific enquiry.
They don’t seem too perturbed by the “what happens after you die” part, though – they haven’t asked the question, and I haven’t tried to explain (luckily, since I waver between “we don’t know” and “you stop existing”).
I think matter-of-factness and only answering the question asked is the way to go.
Wow, it sounds to me like you handled this wonderfully. Talking to children about death seems to be a theme on the daddy blogs lately, and it’s got me to realize that I’m horrified of the day I have to talk to my little dude about it.
Sounds like you handled it very well! Much better than my two who asked while in line at a supermarket at the top of their voices ” why did you burn Gaby mummy?” (my first born died and we have always been very open about her death… ie its not only older people that die, but babies too…) and if you’re wondering… we had her cremated… try discussing that one over the milk, bread and shampoo! I think there are no right or wrongs and it is still such a taboo subject but one deals with it in your own way that is pertinent to your family situation at that time. Oh yes… I came here via Charlotte’s web and have really enjoyed lurking!
Jennifer, I’m really sorry to hear that – it must have been especially difficult with him being a close part of the family (dudelet has a much more abstracted relationship with his grandparents, seeing the surviving ones either not at all or every six months to a year). I feel a bit better about how it went today but won’t be looking to raise the subject again in a hurry.
Holmes, hi. The little dudes will deal with it a lot better than we will. Matter of fact (see Jennifer’s comment) is what they do!
Hi Tanya – I don’t know whether to laugh or cry reading your comment (and reading a deeply moving entry on your blog, I think both are in order).
Hoo boy, not just a hard topic but something emotional for you right now. I think you did fine. I’m a big fan of telling kids the truth, meaning what you feel is true and what you feel they can understand. I will never act as if I know “the truth” but I believe in relative truths, i.e. what I believe, whether I’m “right” or not.
We tell our kids that everyone dies eventually, but that after we rest up in heaven for a while we come back again. (One thing that has helped them grok the reincarnation thing is the books we have on the Buddha and the Dalai Lama…they know that the Buddha chose to stay up in heaven but the Dalai Lama decided to keep coming back to help everyone.)
So far they’ve been quite satisfied with that, though occasionally after thinking about it they’ll say “I don’t want you to die Mama!” in a slightly tearful way. And the other day my son said that he wanted us all to die and come back at the same time so we could always be together.
Really, all of these things are meant to be comforting, either “he’s with God now” or “we’ll see each other again next time.” And while “it’s part of life” sounds trite, it’s actually the truth, which kids appreciate.
You don’t have to worry one bit about talking to dudelet about death and here’s why.
He asked. “Will I die?” You told him. “We all die eventually.” He chose to disbelieve you. “I’m not going to die.”
This is the genius of childhood. They take a little bite of existential reality. If they don’t like the taste, if it is too much for their little psychic stomachs handle, they just spit it out.
They can do that. Lucky things.
Nice point, anna. Of course, that’s a talent that politicians and senior executives share with toddlers…
How do you deal with telling them ( an 8 year old and 3 year old) that there Uncle died for no known reason? He was only 31 and there is no known reason for it at this time. (We are awaiting autopsy results). When someone is sick, it can make sense. When someone is older, it makes sense. But when he is so young…??? Thanks!
I’m so sorry to hear that – I wish I knew. My own experience only extends to the three year side of things and you can’t really do more than express that they won’t be seeing them again. With an eight year it must be so much harder.
All I can think of is that you be honest with them about your own feelings. Children can will always surprize us in what they can and can’t cope with – and the extent to which they can help us cope.