Life After Death

Can Somebody Anybody Tell Me Why?

It's July and our family made it through our first entire month of 2018 without attending a funeral.  It had been pretty morbid start to the year, with us averaging about a funeral month through May.  The first was actually on December 30th, but that seemed close enough. It also happened to land on our middle child's birthday, and fortunately she was pretty understanding of the need to postpone her 5th birthday part to celebrate the life of her great aunt.  She was treated to a pinata later that day by her extended family, and this has seemed to smooth over the fact that we never got around to rescheduling her an actual party.  More fodder for her therapy sessions later on in life I suppose.

Like sex, drugs and maybe even rock 'n roll (pending your music tastes), death is one of those uncomfortable yet unavoidable topics you will have to discuss with your kids at some point.  Pending the closeness of your children to the deceased, the manner of death, and the age of your children, there are many ways, and no right way, to approach the topic.  One of our child's teachers told me that she had all intentions of taking her kids to a funeral of someone they didn't know very well before they had to attend one of a close loved one.  Not quite funeral crashing, but an interest idea nonetheless. 

The very decision to take your kids to a funeral can be a challenging one.  If you're not a regular church goer, and the funeral happens to be a traditional religious service, the prospect of your kids sitting still and for an hour (or more) can seem daunting.  Despite being semi-regular church goers, I spent the bulk of one life celebration service quarantined in a bathroom at the back of the sanctuary while our overtired 3 y/o screamed himself into a nap.  I'm pretty certain his cries were audible by the back few pews of the church.

In the past, I've struggled with the decision of attending funerals myself, even sans kids.  In a way it sometimes give me an odd, and likely incorrect, feeling like I'm imposing on the family.  A few years ago though, I caught a conversation on public radio (because I'm old) discussing funeral attendance.  The host made the comment that the philosophy in her house, as directed by her father, was that you always went to the funeral out of respect for the family.  This seemed like some sound reasoning to me, and has helped me dictate my decision to attend funerals whenever logistically possible.

When it comes to deciding whether or not to bring the kids, I always consider what I think the person we are honoring might want.  This typically means that whenever feasible our funeral attendance is a family affair.  I did allow our two oldest to sit out one of our most recent funerals, as it happened to land on their last day of school, and it was logistically easier to not bring them.  It also would have been their second funeral in two days.  I figured our 3 y/o had enough ambivalence to spare him any excessive emotional trauma.  He also didn't have a choice; since I was going, he was too.

With all of this exposure to death, it has certainly conditioned our kids to process and cope with it.  They've seen deceased loved ones in open caskets.  Our daughters, who tend to wear their emotions on their sleeves like one of their parents (I'll let you speculate on which one), usually shed their fair share of tears.  Often times because they are genuinely sad, but also in part because everyone else is crying too.  It just seems like the thing to do at the moment.

My wife and I never discussed a strategy to approaching the topic of death with our kids, or answering their curious and thoughtful, albeit at times inappropriate questions.  We've tried to be as honest as possible with them, while also sparing some of the unsightly details.  To me, this seems like the most humane way to approach death.  It seems bizarre that at time we try to shield our kids from death and sadness in real life, while we think little about the situations they see in movies and on TV.  One of my friends commented that growing up on a farm with animals that came and went helped him better understand that death is a natural part of life. 

I am by no means an expert on the child grieving process, and while all the funerals our kids have attended have been loved ones, most all have been great-grandparents or great-aunts or uncles.  Close family, but not necessarily family we see daily or weekly.  Sad and unexpected losses, but most had gotten to an age or been fighting an illness where death was not unlikely in the near future.  This has likely allowed us to support our kids through the grieving process, as opposed to trying to shield them from that grief.  But I do think it is good, and healthy, for our kids to see us show our emotions as we grieve too.

While we recognize the sad and hurt that comes along with the loss of a loved one, one thing that we've tried to encourage our kids to do is is think about the good memories and traits about that particular person that they can show to the world.  Personally, this has helped me during my own grieving process; finding solace in the memories of the good times I've shared with those who have passed, and identifying the ways in which those people positively impacted my life, so that I can try to do the same for others. 

When my wife's grandma past away in May, our 7 y/o started making a list of the things that we loved about her.  She had all of our family members, including her aunts, uncles, cousins, and my wife's parents, write a fond memory or something they loved about their mom, grandma or great grandma.  This note made its way into the casket where my wife's grandma will be able to rest in peace with those memories and words of love.  Of course at the top of the list, courtesy of our children, was how much great-grandma was loved and will be dearly missed because she always gave out treats. 

Some of the most thoughtful words shared with me following the loss of a loved one came from a good friend after my stepsister was tragically taken from us at a young age.  It was the one of the first funerals our oldest two attended, and had they been the age they are today, much tougher to explain to them.  The words my friend share were a quote from Leo Buscaglia, who is often referred to as "Dr. Love", and have become my go to condolence when trying to find anything that might provide a remote amount of comfort to those mourning the loss of a loved one.

"I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death.  They continue to participate in every act, thought and decision we make.  Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories.  We find comfort in knowing that our lives have been enriched by sharing their love."

If we keep these words in mind, I think, hope, it can help us weather that storm of grief that descends when we lose those we love.  It might also help us to help our kids in understanding death.  That though the people they saw every day, or even just occasionally, might not be physically present, their presence can live on in them and in others around them, and in the memories they have of those loved loved ones. 

The loss will still hurt, and there will be sadness and tears.  And we will struggle to help our kids process that grief and sadness, just as we will struggle to process our own.  But as the minister presiding over the funeral of my wife's grandma said, those tears are a sign of love for the those we've lost.  It's a sad reality that it hurts the most when we lose those we love the most.  But it is a reality, and one we will have to face, and one our kids will have to face.  If we support them, and allow them to support us, it will help us to continue living life.  Even after death.




Title credits: (The disturbingly prophetic) Notorious B.I.G. and Bone Thugs N Harmony.