We were all ready to leave the house. The usual fuss about what they would and wouldn’t wear had dissipated and they were ready.
Walking through the hall, my middle daughter pointed to a boy in a frame and said ‘who’s that boy?’ The picture was of our cousin, Rían, who lost his battle with a brain tumour six years ago.
He was six years of age. He was a beautiful boy, full of life and energy. His death knocked all of us in the family. And yet, watching his mother striving to build her life again, with the same resilience she showed in her year-long battle with her son’s cancer, left us all in awe and admiration.
But my daughter was standing there, looking at me, asking; ‘who is he?’
And, for a moment, I was paralysed with fear and apprehension, because I didn’t really know what to say to her.
She is only four years of age and hasn’t really had any conversations around death. So, I didn’t want to go into it on our way out to the cinema.
I said to her, ‘that beautiful boy is your cousin, Rían, and I’ll tell you all about him when we come home.’
As adults, we often find conversations about death very difficult. We feel we do not have the skills to articulate it, or perhaps the pain of the situation may be so overwhelming for us that we avoid the conversation altogether.
But they are conversations that need to take place and your children will encounter death talk as they navigate their young lives. So, your ability to hold that conversation is an important part of parenting.
And by having the conversation, you can frame how your child comes to terms with the notion of death.
That will remove some of the fear for them. We all fear the unknown, but if we leave that unknown unspoken about, it can become something far more frightening in a child’s developing mind.
How to talk to your child about death
Your language has to be age-appropriate. Of course, you would talk to a four-year-old differently than you would speak to a teenager about death. So, you should frame that conversation to suit the child.
Use language that is easy to understand. Try to avoid metaphors and abstract language. Saying something like ‘they are asleep’ can give children nightmares, as they may then fear going to sleep.
Keep it simple and direct. And don’t be afraid to use the word ‘death’.
Remember, you don’t have all the answers they will want. ‘What happens when you die?’ It’s okay to say you don’t fully know that answer. You could say: ‘Well, we believe that you go to heaven.’
Parents often feel very apprehensive around this question. The reality is that you don’t know. But outlining your belief, and other cultures’ beliefs, might give your child some ideas to work with and might comfort them.
Let your child know that people grieve in very different ways and that there is not one way to show your upset.
Often, children see a family member visibly upset or crying over the death of a loved one, but they feel guilty, because they are not expressing their feelings the same way. So, explain to them that everyone grieves differently.
Don’t be afraid to let your child see you cry. When we hide our grief, we are implicitly communicating there is something wrong with it and our children will pick that up.
They have a heightened sense of what is going on in the family, so express it openly and honestly and talk about your feelings. Show your child how to grieve.
After the conversation, reassure your child. Support them with a hug or a kiss and tell them that you are there for them and listen to their questions.
Talking to a child about death can be quite challenging for parents. But, it is a conversation that needs to take place.
Our first instinct is to protect our children from pain and harm, so we often try to avoid our children hearing about death or dying.
Yet, death is a significant part of life.
And children need to know about it and be able to hold a conversation about it. They will encounter conversations about death in their play and peer group. So, it’s important that you speak to some of those mysteries and answer their questions as best you can.
That evening, when we came home from the cinema, we took down the picture of our Rían and had a lovely, sad conversation about what a wonderful boy he was.
We were emotional and we laughed, too, when I told them of the funny things he did and said and how strong he was. And we had a conversation that celebrated a beautiful boy’s life.