Bear with me, this may be long...
Last November, my mom died after battling dementia for about five years. She was 73. She lived, as my dad still does, in the midwest where I grew up. We had visited there a bunch of times with Annika, who's now 3, and once before her death with Adrian, who's now 15 months. Annika was obviously nowhere near as close to her as she is to DH's parents, "Grammy and PopPop," who live 90 minutes' drive away and who are 15 years younger. But she did know and love her Grandma.
So when we went back for the funeral, we knew we had to tell Annika what had happened. She's too smart not to pick up on how upset everyone was, not to mention just plain wondering where Grandma was.
We are not at all religious and do not believe in any sort of Christian notion of heaven or afterlife. So we basically explained to her that Grandma was very old, and she had lived a long and good life and been very happy, but her body finally got too tired and worn out to go on working, so it stopped working. She died, and we wouldn't be able to see her anymore after the funeral. We explained that when a person dies, what makes them the person they were isn't part of their body anymore, and they don't eat or sleep or breathe or walk around or feel things anymore. We told her that even though Grandma died, we could always feel her with us when we remembered her and talked about her and told stories about her.
She went with us to the funeral and the viewing, and did really well. She was fascinated by the "bed" Grandma was in, and gave her kisses more than once. At one point she said, "Wanna tickle her!" to which we explained that that would not be a good idea.
Okay, so fast forward to now, six months later. Annika does not seem traumatized by the whole event, but she does still talk about it a lot. She'll say, sometimes prompted by a conversation and sometimes at random, "My grandma died. I'm sad." We'll acknowledge that and say that yes, it's sad that she died and we miss her and we're sad too. We'll talk about things she did with Grandma and tell stories--she loves to hear that Grandma gave her bottles as a baby (we have a picture of mom giving her a bottle when she was about 2 months old) and sat with her when she played the piano. She'll talk about that a lot.
What's harder is the questions she asks about where Grandma is, specifically. Tonight she got really particular about it: "Where my Grandma now? How she get out of that bed with the pillow?" I'm just not quite ready to explain cremation and burial to a 3-year-old ... honestly, I think telling her Grandma's body got burned and the ashes buried in the ground would be more than she could handle.
So I explained to her again that Grandma's not really in her body anymore and it doesn't do anything anymore. Wildly enough, she came up with something not that far off of the truth: "She's all squishy now? Like she have no bones?" (Annika is fascinated with bones, and more than once has suggested that if she got a really bad boo-boo she could see her bones. Anyway, we've explained to her that without bones, our bodies would be all floppy and we couldn't stand up.) I said that it was sort of like that, and when we died our bodies eventually became part of the earth again. She asked if it was yucky, and I said maybe some people thought it was yucky but it was really just how the cycle of life worked.
Then she said, "Let's pretend I going to die!" I managed not to have a coronary over that one, and said, "No, honey, that would make me too sad." She said, "I just pretending!" I said "I know, but it would make me too sad even to pretend about."
That's about where it ended for tonight. I'm just wondering...are we handling this okay? Does she seem to be handling it okay? How have other people dealt with this? I told DH that maybe I should have let her go ahead a little with the "let's pretend I'm going to die" game just to see what she was thinking, but it was just so viscerally painful that I couldn't.
I swear, sometimes I wish we were religious so I could give her a nice comforting story about how Grandma went to heaven and is watching over her and will be waiting for her, but we don't believe that and I don't believe in lying to kids.
Insights, anyone?
Last November, my mom died after battling dementia for about five years. She was 73. She lived, as my dad still does, in the midwest where I grew up. We had visited there a bunch of times with Annika, who's now 3, and once before her death with Adrian, who's now 15 months. Annika was obviously nowhere near as close to her as she is to DH's parents, "Grammy and PopPop," who live 90 minutes' drive away and who are 15 years younger. But she did know and love her Grandma.
So when we went back for the funeral, we knew we had to tell Annika what had happened. She's too smart not to pick up on how upset everyone was, not to mention just plain wondering where Grandma was.
We are not at all religious and do not believe in any sort of Christian notion of heaven or afterlife. So we basically explained to her that Grandma was very old, and she had lived a long and good life and been very happy, but her body finally got too tired and worn out to go on working, so it stopped working. She died, and we wouldn't be able to see her anymore after the funeral. We explained that when a person dies, what makes them the person they were isn't part of their body anymore, and they don't eat or sleep or breathe or walk around or feel things anymore. We told her that even though Grandma died, we could always feel her with us when we remembered her and talked about her and told stories about her.
She went with us to the funeral and the viewing, and did really well. She was fascinated by the "bed" Grandma was in, and gave her kisses more than once. At one point she said, "Wanna tickle her!" to which we explained that that would not be a good idea.
Okay, so fast forward to now, six months later. Annika does not seem traumatized by the whole event, but she does still talk about it a lot. She'll say, sometimes prompted by a conversation and sometimes at random, "My grandma died. I'm sad." We'll acknowledge that and say that yes, it's sad that she died and we miss her and we're sad too. We'll talk about things she did with Grandma and tell stories--she loves to hear that Grandma gave her bottles as a baby (we have a picture of mom giving her a bottle when she was about 2 months old) and sat with her when she played the piano. She'll talk about that a lot.
What's harder is the questions she asks about where Grandma is, specifically. Tonight she got really particular about it: "Where my Grandma now? How she get out of that bed with the pillow?" I'm just not quite ready to explain cremation and burial to a 3-year-old ... honestly, I think telling her Grandma's body got burned and the ashes buried in the ground would be more than she could handle.
So I explained to her again that Grandma's not really in her body anymore and it doesn't do anything anymore. Wildly enough, she came up with something not that far off of the truth: "She's all squishy now? Like she have no bones?" (Annika is fascinated with bones, and more than once has suggested that if she got a really bad boo-boo she could see her bones. Anyway, we've explained to her that without bones, our bodies would be all floppy and we couldn't stand up.) I said that it was sort of like that, and when we died our bodies eventually became part of the earth again. She asked if it was yucky, and I said maybe some people thought it was yucky but it was really just how the cycle of life worked.
Then she said, "Let's pretend I going to die!" I managed not to have a coronary over that one, and said, "No, honey, that would make me too sad." She said, "I just pretending!" I said "I know, but it would make me too sad even to pretend about."
That's about where it ended for tonight. I'm just wondering...are we handling this okay? Does she seem to be handling it okay? How have other people dealt with this? I told DH that maybe I should have let her go ahead a little with the "let's pretend I'm going to die" game just to see what she was thinking, but it was just so viscerally painful that I couldn't.
I swear, sometimes I wish we were religious so I could give her a nice comforting story about how Grandma went to heaven and is watching over her and will be waiting for her, but we don't believe that and I don't believe in lying to kids.
Insights, anyone?







