More thoughts on death
Just as we knew it would, the conversation about death has resurfaced in our house, this time with more hard questions and a little more anguish. Over breakfast on the first day of school earlier this week Gryffin started asking about death and dying. You know, because that’s the perfect time to bring up a heady and hard topic like dying. I’m dashing all about, packing the extra change of clothes for each boy, double-checking Isaiah’s epi-pen, grabbing the camera and checking it’s battery charge, deciding I do want that “first day” photo op after all, and Gryffin suddenly asks Jason if his dad died. Oh so casual with a mouth full of cheerios. Jason replied that yes, his dad did die. “Was his name Michael?” Gryffin asked next. This is how the conversation usually goes. Did he die? Was his name Michael? End of story.
But this time, Gryffin made the connection that we had thus far avoided. He stopped, mid-bite, eyes wide, and said “Papa! I don’t want YOU to die!” and before Jason could even swallow his own mouthful of cereal to formulate a response, Gryffin made another connection. “I don’t want to die!” and his face was sort of stricken at the thought. Then he turned to me, “Mama! I don’t want you to die!” and looked like he was about to burst into tears. Part of me was thinking, oh, of COURSE we need to deal with THIS right now! but Jason and I just looked at each other for a second, somewhat stricken ourselves. We both knew we didn’t have the time for an in-depth conversation and with the first-day-of-school flurry, it was too much to take in, process and explain to him. Jason just put down his breakfast, went over to Gryffin, slid onto his seat and hugged him. He whispered some reassurances to him and held him for the rest of the meal. Then it was out the door for some quick photos on the front porch and off for the big day. Crisis averted for a few hours at least.
But this afternoon, two days later, it came up again. Of course I was by myself. I ALWAYS get the questions about sex and dying. Always. I don’t know why Jason keeps getting a free pass. I know he can’t help it, but sheesh, throw a dog a bone. I could use a little help over here!
During “quiet time” this afternoon, Gryffin and Isaiah were asking me about a picture of my grandparents that is in the hallway outside their room. Now, for starters, the first part of that sentence is problematic. DURING QUIET TIME. In our house, the first rule of quiet time is “Don’t talk to Mama.” But whatever, we’ll address that later. So, anyway, we’re looking at the picture and the boys both asked if it was me in the picture. I like that they thought it was me, that I look like my grandma. I told them it was Ed and Gryffin immediately asked if she died. Then they asked about the man in the picture, my grandfather. I told them his name and answered that yes, he died, too.
Isaiah just stared at me for a second and then asked earnestly, “…because they didn’t drink water?” Someone out there told this kid that if you don’t drink water, you will die. It’s the ONLY connection he has made with death so far. I explained that no, it wasn’t because they didn’t drink water and explained for the umpteenth time that technically-speaking, yes, you will die if you stop drinking water FOREVER but that is not likely to happen to anyone that we know. Isaiah was satisfied after that and wandered off somewhere. Probably to drink some water!
But Gryffin had more questions. Of course. These days Gryffin always has more questions. He asked WHY they died. My friend, Erika, is a child life specialist and she told me to stick to the facts. Don’t tell them your kids that someone got old and died. Or that someone got sick and died. For a preschooler, that could lead to them associating getting older or a simple illness with dying. Made perfect sense to me. Got it. Easy squeezy. So I told Gryffin the facts. I told him that my grandmother’s heart stopped beating and that when your heart stops beating, you die. I felt proud of myself at this point. Nice work, Nance. Way to stick to the basics. But then he asked why her heart stopped beating. I came up with something else simple and basic, something about her brain not functioning properly (which was the truth) and hoped that would suffice. But of course it didn’t. He kept asking and asking and asking and asking…
“Why did her brain not work right?”
“Why did her heart not do what it was supposed to do?”
“Did I know her?”
“When you die, do you never come back?”
“Do you stay with God when you die?”
“Why don’t you get to be alive again?”
“Will God make us all alive at the same time some day when he’s ready for a big party?” (maybe this kid has been talking with Jason!)
…and finally back around to “I don’t want YOU to die, Mama!”
It was a difficult conversation and I felt like I was fumbling. It’s SO easy and so tempting for me to fall back on the Sunday -School-Answers. Ultimately, though, I decided to take Erika’s advice after all. I keep it truthful and basic. I told Gryffin that I don’t know. I don’t know exactly what happens when you die and sometimes it’s a little scary to think about being dead. I don’t know how it all works. Then I told him that I might be wrong but I read in a book called Revelation that one day there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain and that one day all things will be made new. I told him that other people believe other things but no more death or sadness sounded pretty alright to me.
I don’t know if anything I said made sense to Gryffin. These are hard conversations. And maybe Jason had the right idea on the first day of school. Maybe sometimes we don’t need to give details and explanations and definitions. Maybe sometimes we just need to hold him for awhile. He’s still only 4 after all. God and Santa are kind of like the same person in his mind so we’ve probably got some time to sort it all out!
UPDATE: Jason tells me that he DID talk to Gryffin on the first day of school while he was sitting with him. Apparently they discussed God holding you when you die and “eternal time.”