Posts Tagged ‘parents’
Making Space to Hear Them: supporting children in grief
By Alyssa Warmland
Children tend to be naturally curious as they grow and learn to navigate the world. As adults, it’s our job to walk with them through that process of learning and to support their curiosity. It can be hard to do that with respect when we are situated in cultures that don’t acknowledge children as autonomous humans worthy of mutual respect. It can be tempting to encourage kids to ignore their feelings about death and grief or to shut down conversations about it when they ask questions. Sometimes, this is because we just don’t know what to say that is developmentally appropriate, especially with young children. Sometimes, it’s because we haven’t allowed ourselves to develop our own thoughts and feelings about death and grief and it feels uncomfortable for us to talk about.
What grieving children need from adults in their lives is to feel heard, just like adults do. When a child asks questions or talks about death or grief, here are some ideas of things to say and how to prompt conversations that allow us to listen:
– Tell me more about your ideas about dying. What do you think happens after someone dies? Those are good ideas, thanks for sharing them with me. I think [insert your own cultural or family beliefs about death].
– How are you feeling about [the being the child is grieving]? Do you want to tell me about some of your favourite memories about them? It’s okay to talk about it.
– It’s okay to feel however you are feeling. It’s okay to feel scared or curious about dying. You’re not alone. Do you want to tell me more about what’s going on for you? I love you and I’m here for you.
– Death isn’t something people can control, I want to make sure you know it’s not your fault [person/animal] died. Sometimes things just are and we can’t do anything about – them, but we can talk about how we are feeling about it.
It can also help to read children’s books about grief. Even if you don’t read them with your children, they might help give you the language to talk with them about death and grief when you’re not sure what to say. Most professionals recommend using direct language, such as “death”, “dying”, and “grief”, rather than terms like “passing away”, because they are easier for children to understand.
It’s important for children to know they’re not alone in their feelings and that it’s okay to feel hard things with the adults in their lives. Humans are social creatures who crave connection. Even when it’s hard or uncomfortable, pausing our busy lives to make that time for connection with children is important so they can learn how to process grief or whatever other feelings they’re having. It can also be an opportunity to re-parent ourselves. It might help to ask ourselves why we feel uncomfortable with a topic and what our own inner child might need to hear about the feelings that come up for us about death and grief. It’s important to seek out connection and space to process those feelings too, whether that’s through therapy or with other adults we trust to be vulnerable with.
Grief literacy and emotional literacy in general is worth making space for. Children have valid feelings worth expressing and being heard it’s it’s okay to stumble, imperfectly, within those conversations with them. Being with them is what is most important.
Additional Resources:
Kid’s Grief
Kids Help Phone
Children’s Grief Foundation
Children and Youth Grief Network
Children’s Grief Colouring Book
National Alliance for Children’s Grief
Bereaved Families of Ontario
Camp Erin
The Dougy Center
Kids’ books about grief:
When Dinosaurs Die
Badger’s Parting Gifts
The Fall of Freddie the Leaf
The Invisible String
The Heart and the Bottle
Reflections on Mother’s Day
By Jessica Milette, MSW, RSW
The signs of spring start to show up: the bird calls, sleepy daffodils and tulips waking up from their slumber, the trees beginning to bud ready to shade us with their leaves all season. And then, the flood of Mother’s Day emails start crashing into our inboxes.
Mother’s day is a holiday where we show appreciation and care for the maternal roles in our lives. However, this holiday can feel very overwhelming for those of us who are grieving the death of a mother figure, a mother grieving their child, or those of us grieving the loss of not being able to become mothers ourselves. The ads, commercials, and displays at the store, designed to be appealing and inviting become a painful grief trigger as we go about our day, our minds and hearts going to the person we’re grieving who isn’t alive to receive their flowers or gifts. Feeling as if our grief is heightened on holidays or times of celebration is a natural reaction to have. Often around these times of the year we gather with our loved ones, and our special person’s absence feels amplified.
Over the years, my grief reactions around mother’s day continue to change. At first, it was like a black looming cloud and I would avoid anything to do with Mother’s Day. Over time, I still have had hard Mother’s Days but the day looks much different. I may write to my mother, choose to ignore the day and do things unrelated to Mother’s Day, make a comforting meal from my childhood, or participate in a memorial event on Mother’s Day. Regardless of what I choose to do, or not do on Mother’s Day I make sure to give myself the space and compassion to rest and recover – grief can be exhausting.
There is no right or wrong way to grieve, nor how to go through Mother’s Day. Our relationship as mothers and children is unique, so too will be our grief. The following ideas may be how you’d like to take time to honour the person you’re remembering and grieving on Mother’s Day:
-Unsubscribing from Mother’s Day emails (some companies have a special opt-out message for folks to unsubscribe from these types of emails)
– Ignoring Mother’s Day altogether and doing something that fills you up (it could be going to a movie your person may have never wanted to go to or taking a long hike)
– Creating an altar with photos, keepsakes, and favourite things of your person
– Lighting a candle in their honour
– Writing them a card, updating them on your life and reflecting on your relationship
– Creating a new tradition or ritual to replace Mother’s Day
– Packing your day with connection and activities with trusted others who support you in your grief
– Having a day of nothing: allowing yourself to do what your heart is telling you (a bath, a nap, a cry)
Sometimes our grief may feel heaviest in anticipation of Mother’s Day or on Mother’s Day itself. As we enter May and Mother’s Day approaches, I wish for you to be compassionate towards yourself and move through the day in the way that fits your heart and relationship best.
Once a Daughter, Always a Daughter
Mary E. Schulz is a Social Worker and writer who loves dogs, opera and stories that take her
breath away.
We all have roles in our life. For me, I have been a wife, best friend, health care professional
and daughter. All of these roles have brought me joy and some heart ache and I am grateful for
the chance to have lived all of these experiences.
But in 2017, my husband died, followed by both my parents within a year. In one year, most of
my family was gone. I felt like I was in a row boat and suddenly had no paddles, just drifting,
with very little to help me stay on course.
After my husband died, I threw myself in to providing support and care to my two elderly and
increasingly frail parents. I had more time to visit and to help them with their day-to-day lives.
If I could never be a wife and best friend to my husband again, at least I could be the best
possible daughter.
And then, quite quickly, Mom and Dad died within months of each other.
I remember saying to a friend, “I am an orphan now. I will never be a wife or daughter again.
Who am I? How will I ever find anything to do – to be – that will even begin to fill those shoes?”
My friend wisely told me that I will always be a wife. I will always be a daughter. Nothing ever
changes that. Yes, my husband and parents will never be with me in the same way that they
were when they were alive. But the love we shared – while very different- would never die.
Love never dies. So being a daughter or a wife doesn’t die with them.
Being a daughter and a wife helped me to grow into the person I have become. Having these
wise and loving people in my life shaped my beliefs, my experiences, my personality. My
husband and parents, each in their own way, guided me through tough times and celebrated
with me in the good times. Now that they have died, I am part of their legacy and everything
we experienced together is part of me.
This perspective helps me a lot. I grieve these three wonderful people in my life. But I talk to
them each quite regularly (yes, out loud!) about how grateful I am to be their daughter. To be
his wife. Yes, I use the present tense because I still feel I am their daughter and I am his wife –
and always will be.
I find this comforting. I have lost a lot but I have not lost my relationship with my parents and
my husband. Love never dies and that helps to keep them close.