I found out nearly three weeks ago that my mother has died. She had a lot of health issues, but she was only 60, so this was not expected. I haven’t seen her in a long time, by her choice, but she was still my mother, and I am still grieving her passing. This is a heavy topic, readers, so buckle-up! I am a grieving daughter, but I am also a mother, and already I have thoughts and musings on how to approach this topic as a parent.
My daughter was asleep when my aunt called and told me the news, so she didn’t witness my initial response to the news. Luckily my husband was there with me, and held my hand, and handed me my favourite Care Bear to hold while I sobbed and talked with my aunt about what had happened. My husband has held me while I sobbed a lot these past couple of weeks, and I am ever grateful for his love and support, it’s not new, that’s just how he is! If my daughter had been awake, though, I would have let her sit with us because as a ten-year-old she would be aware that something was going on, and if we had tried to hide it from her, she would have been worried, anxious, and likely confused. If she had been very little, such a display of emotion from her mother would likely have been distressing and too much for her to handle, so I would have asked my husband to take her into another part of the house and distract her. But I would go to her when I had calmed a bit and let her be a part of what was happening. Grief is a part of life, children will most likely experience it, at some point, and as parents we need to make space for them to feel all the resulting feelings, and support them during through their feelings.
When my daughter woke up, I sat on the edge of her bed, and told her about what had happened. She has never met my mother, but because her mother was sad, she was sad, and cried. She was also sad because now she would never have the opportunity to meet her grandmother. I held her while she cried, and was proud of how in touch with her emotions she was. Grief is a simple word for what is really a big, fat, soup of emotions. Everyone’s grief soup is going to have similar components, but in differing quantities, and it’s incredibly important that we allow our children, and ourselves, to have our own grief soup. There’s no ‘right’ way to grieve, but there is a wrong way, and that’s to deny you’re feeling it. Don’t be the soup nazi, grief soup is for everyone.
My mother apparently had a friend who has a daughter a few years younger than mine, and my aunt told me this friend is debating on whether or not to bring her daughter to the funeral. She’s worried it might be too much for a small child, but the little girl in question has asked to go to the funeral because she wants to say goodbye. In my opinion, if a child is asking to attend a funeral to say goodbye, then they should be allowed to attend. Not necessarily a viewing, but a closed casket ceremony is suitable. Like so many aspects of parenting, navigating grief and death should in most cases be led by the child. They are more capable than we often realise to deal with what life throws at them, they’re pretty amazing!
My daughter processed her own feelings pretty quickly regarding my mother’s passing, but it is my feelings that she is now processing. I’m not attempting to hide my feelings from her, but nor am I bombarding her with them. My husband is the person I go to when the sadness builds, and is the one who helps me understand what I am feeling, and reassures me that it’s okay. I told him yesterday that it’s feels strange that I can feel at peace with it all and be doing fine, and five minutes later feel very sad and need another cry. He said it’s perfectly normal, and that grief is like a tide, and I think that’s a perfect metaphor for it.
Another aspect of this process that I feel like parents need to navigate with consideration to their children is arranging the funeral. Death of a loved one can bring out a lot in people, and some people can struggle to process their feelings, leading to lashing out at people. When my aunt called me, in spite of her and I not communicating all that much for some time now, she was kind and friendly. Not even two weeks later, she was being a great deal less kind and friendly. I’m not going to go into all that here, but what I will go into is my response to my feelings about my aunt’s behaviour. There were a couple of occasions where she said something to me or texted something to me that left me very angry. I vented about my anger and upset about this to my husband, which is good, but it was in front of my daughter, which is not good. That left her feeling stressed and uncomfortable, and I get it, who likes seeing their parents angry, even if it has nothing to ourselves? We should allow our kids to be aware of the feelings we’re having in these situations, but we should also tailor the degree to which they are aware of our feelings to their age and maturity level.
This isn’t the first time my daughter has experienced grief, she was about five when our old cat Mr Taro passed away. She grieved him in her own ways, and we allowed her to lead the way in how she grieved him, and supported her through it. We want to shield our children from certain harsh realities in life, and so we should, but when those harsh realities do rear up, we need to guide our children, support them, and show them the way, even if we’re just muddling through it ourselves.
