Recently, I had a friend die. She was part of a group of people with whom I played Scrabble every other week for the last 14 years. We played non-competitively, helped one another play the best words, and needled each other along the way. My friend came to Thanksgiving a few times, attended my wedding, and was a happy recipient of my wife’s homemade jam and rye bread. My friend had been ill and had rapidly taken a turn for the worse. When I received the news, I began to cry. And, audibly. My daughter has not seen me sad and was trying to understand.
My wife and I were explaining that Daddy is sad because his friend died. My daughter, in her empathic way, said, “Here, Dad. Dry your tears,” handing me tissues and rubbing my back. “I’m sad when I miss my friends too.” Then, she proceeded to ask, “What happened to your friend?” I then explained that she was sick and had recently gotten worse. I was then trying to pull myself together to transport her to school.
In the car, the conversation about what happened continued. I said that my friend, Kristin, was sick and that she got worse. She asked, “What did she have?” I told her she had cancer that had spread and made her body stop working well. She seemed satisfied enough at this answer. She then said that she would miss her friend if she died. She also said she would cry a lot if Daddy or Mommy died. This depth of understanding seemed pretty profound for an almost six-year-old.
I could have hidden my feelings of loss, but I did not want to shield my daughter from seeing me sad. She is fortunate that she has not had to deal with the loss of a grandparent and even has been able to have a relationship with her great-grandmother, who is 94. But, I know that death is inevitable, and she will face losses all too soon. For now, I know that she is learning how to respond from me. I am doing my best, but grief comes in waves.
Experts recommend answering children’s questions about death directly and age-appropriately. They say to avoid euphemisms like “passed away” or, in the case of a pet, “put to sleep” for young children because those expressions confuse them. For most kids, death is a remote event, and, when it occurs, they may not understand how a loved one, including a pet, is gone. At the same time, they may not understand the expression of emotions in others around them when death does occur. Outward, loud sobbing from adults is unusual for children to see and may be scary or shocking for children. When children experience a loss, they may be unsure of their feelings or not fully understand the feelings of those around them who mourn differently from them. As a dad, my daughter has not seen me express sadness. She has seen me mad, frustrated, annoyed, happy, silly, sleepy, funny, and sick but not sad. For fathers of sons, experts agree that men showing a broad range of emotions helps boys better regulate emotions–that is, boys learn that all emotions are okay to be expressed. They do not have to suppress some (like sadness) and only show others (like anger). Dads, in particular, demonstrate to boys the range of emotions that can be expressed.
My daughter has asked questions before about death. She had found a picture of my previous dog and asked what happened to her. I responded that she got old and died. She then asked, “How did she die?” I told her, not knowing I shouldn’t, that she was suffering, and I took her to the vet and had her put to sleep. Then, in that insatiable, inquisitive tone that young children use, she said, “But, how did she die?” I then explained that the vet gave her an injection to relax her first and so she wouldn’t feel any pain and then gave her a second shot to stop her heart. Later, she died. My daughter then asked, “Were you sad?” And, I told her, “Yes, I was very sad. She was my dog for a long time.” She then said that she would be sad if Roshi (our current dog) died. Then, satisfied with the answers, she moved on to wanting to play “I Spy” in the car.
It is easy to forget that kids are still trying to figure out how the world works. Like her father, she is seeing me be vulnerable and expressing my feelings differently than she sees typically. But, I think she is also learning about communicating feelings, grief, and moving through adversity. These are lessons I can provide of how to cope with life events. I also like to think that I am helping her learn the skills so that when she is faced with the loss of a loved one, or, really, any setback, she will mourn as needed, and then pick herself up and plow forward to a new adventure.
Robert (Rob) S. Weisskirch, MSW, Ph.D., CFLE is a Professor of Human Development at California State University, Monterey Bay and is a Certified Family Life Educator. He and his wife are parents to a chatty 5-year-old daughter and reside in Marina.
Leave a Reply