Death is an incredibly difficult topic to talk about. At any age. It’s never something that anyone wants to talk about until they have to. When I was faced with this challenge, I headed into a conversation with my 4 year old not knowing what I wanted to say, but knowing what I didn’t want to say.
My son’s view of death up until this point in time has been incredibly abstract. He didn’t understand the permanence of it, nor should he, developmentally. He squishes an ant, laughs, and says “I killed it!” Minutes later, he sees another ant farther up the driveway and part of him thinks that it’s the same ant he just squished – reincarnated. (If he knew that word.)
Over the course of five days in mid-May, he was ‘exposed’ to two real concrete deaths. The first was the passing of his favorite class pet, the fluffy white bunny named Snowflake. The second was his 92-year old great-grandmother, Gigi. This made me realize that we needed to discuss death – at least a little bit.
Initially, I took advice from my son’s teachers. They’re experts in talking tough stuff with 3-5 year olds. They loaned me a few books to peruse before I talked to him. (This also allowed me to get some more tears out ahead of time). Knowing my own child, our family’s religious views, and phrases that may be inappropriate for my child… here’s what I won’t (and didn’t) say to him.
I won’t say what happens to someone’s body after they die. In the book The Tenth Best Thing About Barney by Judith Viorst, a boy’s dog passes away and he is very fascinated with what happens to the dog after he dies and is buried. The parents explain that the dog’s body dissolves and helps the flowers and trees grow. My child might envision dead bodies beneath the ground as we walk anywhere. Nope.
I won’t say that some people die when they’re sick. While it is true, I don’t think a 4 year old is capable of understanding the vast continuum of sickness. Next time he gets a cold or an ear infection, I don’t want him to be afraid of dying.
I won’t say that Gigi is sleeping. This might make him nervous about going to sleep and about not waking up. Don’t need that! I feel like this is most common when a child attends a funeral, especially an open-casket one. Luckily, we managed to avoid this scenario.
I won’t say that Snowflake went away. This isn’t fair nor is it the truth. While I classify all of this as being selective about what to say, I wouldn’t lie to him. I remember being told that my cats had gone to a cat farm.
So, with all of what I won’t say – you might be wondering what I did say.
I told my son that Gigi was very old (she was almost 92!) and that her soul went to heaven to be with the rest of her family and friends. We talked about missing people and pets and what we could do to remember them. He drew a picture for Snowflake and we spent some time looking through photos of Gigi. He knew that lots of people were sad about Gigi so he thought that he could give them hugs to make their hearts feel loved. (Want more advice? Check out Shannon’s post.)
He did have some questions, which I’m glad he asked. Would he die? Would I die? Would Nana die? I told him that we all had a lot of living left to do. This answer seemed to suffice.
Have you talked to your children about death? Is there anything you did or didn’t want to say to them?