Death and the Maiden
Did I do the right thing? I don’t know. It seemed to make sense at the time.
Meena has started coming home with a rich variety of insults. Some are intended to be funny; references to “poo poo” figure prominently.
Some are intended to express extreme displeasure with whatever we have done to offend her. “You suck, lady!” was popular for a time. We had a talk with daycare about THAT one.
Today, it was a little darker. Today, she repeatedly told us how she was going to make us die. The accompanying laughter told us that this was also intended to be funny.
We have been dealing with the insults both in general terms (“does that sound like a nice thing to say?”) and in more specific terms as new ‘jokes’ move in to replace the old. For this one, the most logical approach seemed to be:
‘Die’ is not funny, it is sad. Do you know what it means to die? When someone dies, they are gone. Do you remember Zubey-doo? Zubey-doo died. That’s why he’s not with us anymore. And that makes me sad.
This gave her pause. Next came the stricken look on her face. And then the wailing:
“I miss Zubey-Doooooooooooooooooo!!!!”
Believe it or not, this took me completely off-guard. She has never grieved for Zube before. I was not intending to be harsh, this was not an exercise in ‘tough love’. At least it wasn’t supposed to be. Every once in a while she asks where the ‘other’ cat is. The ‘baby’ cat. I am touched that she even remembers. When we talk about him, we tell her that he died, and that this means he is gone, and won’t come back to us. She will occasionally tell me that she misses him, but has never exhibited any distress (and I try to keep my own distress to myself).
But not this time. This time, she was devastated. She wanted to know why he wasn’t coming back. She wanted to know how he died. As I rocked her in my lap and stroked her hair, I explained that he had a lump in his heart, and that that made it stop working properly. That the doctor couldn’t fix it.
She sat up and looked at me. “Doctors can fix people,” she told me confidently, “but they can’t fix cats.”
I left it there. That’s a conversation I don’t think either of us is ready for.
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8 Comments
We are going through a similar issue in our household. The last two weeks the 4yo has been asking a lot of questions about death. Asking me if I’m going to die soon, etc… It hasn’t been easy. He asks about my Mom, who passed away years ago, which I find it very painful to talk about but I do it. I guess it’s good for us both. He is definitely testing out the terms, using it inappropriately. I like to think it’s a process that most kids go through.
Yikes. I didn’t think we’d have to deal with this so soon, I seem to remember hearing that kids don’t understand death until they’re 7 or so. Although I suppose that could mean that we’ll spend the next 3 years explaining it. Tough stuff. And *hugs* to you.
Tough conversation to have but I do think you handled it admirably, considering the unexpectedness of her reaction. Any time we can comfort our children by answering each successive question with just enough detail to satisfy them at the moment, it’s a job well done. She’ll surely have more questions in the future, but, for now, you told her what she was ready to hear. You did the right thing.
Stacy
Thanks Stacy. I just hope I haven’t traumatized her. We’ve been lucky in not having lost any people in our lives, but my grandparents, for instance, are not young. There will come a point when she learns that doctors can’t always fix people, either.
Thanks for your words of support.
Sasha
Isn’t this parenting crap FUN sometimes? My kids used to get teary and upset when we talked about times before they were born (BUT WHERE WAS I? Eve wailed), never mind the whole d-word. Angus’s baseball coach, who was also a good friend’s Dad, died of brain cancer this winter – he was very mature and sensitive at the viewing and the funeral, which made me proud, and heartbroken. We’re all just feeling our way.
Amen, sister! Your comment reminds me of something I heard Margaret Atwood say in an interview (paraphrased): “there’s that moment when you realize that your parents had a life before you were born, and your first thought is, ‘what on earth FOR?!?!!’”.
That’s heavy stuff to deal with, I hope Angus (not to mention his friend!) is doing ok. Or, as ok as possible, under the circumstances. I can’t even imagine.
And we really are all just fumbling along. You’d think that the human race has been at this parenting gig long enough to have it down to a science. But anyone who thinks they do (and writes a book about it) seem to be wronger than most, in the end.
Sometimes ‘age appropriate information’ involves not answering the question. Death is hard even for grown-ups; explaining it to kids is like explaining quantum physics to 3 year olds
I think I’d rather explain quantum physics