God Must Laugh

Original work by Kelly Sue via Flickr on a Creative Commons License

Watching a parent’s slow decline or facing an unexpected funeral is hard enough for adults. What about the kids? Do we let them visit? Even at the end? How do we answer their questions? Should they attend the funeral?  Recently, I’ve been honored to watch a family find their own answers to these questions, and they did it with such grace and care that I asked them to share their experiences here.

Rob,

The decision to inlude Sydney in Grandma’s funeral and memorial felt like no decision at all.  We had never felt that Grandma’s condition was anything to gloss over with Syd.  They were very close and their visits at Oak Crest seemed a competition to see who could smile the most.  Sydney always knew Grandma was very old and that she was fairly frail.

Sydney has never exhibited any fear or discomfort around old people and interacted freely with other residents at Grandma’s place.  We never avoided visiting unless one of us were sick with something contagious.  Age and decline were simply nothing to worry about because they are inevitable.  Sydney knew that old people die because we had talked about it quite plainly. (Grandma was my last living grandparent, Karen has no living grandparents, and my dad died before Sydney was born, so Syd has always known there were some branches missing from the family tree.)

As a result of the above and convenient timing, we were all able to be present when Grandma died.  Karen, Sydney, and I are pretty much a single unit whenever possible, so it was unquestioned that we would all go to Grandma together.  (We were also pretty lucky that we had made a visit only a few days earlier when Grandma was awake and alert – you know, she was herself.)  Sydney merely shared the experience with us.  There was no reason to exclude her or deprive her of the opportunity to say goodbye and to grieve in her own way.  Certainly, if she would have freaked out, we would have removed her and comforted her as needed.  As things were, we allowed her to stay as close to Grandma as she wanted and to speak to Grandma as she wanted.  I think respect for Sydney demanded that we allow her this emotional room to maneuver.

The events were definitely not over Sydney’s head.  It was not a case hauling a child along because she didn’t know what was going on anyway.  She displayed the same range of emotions as the rest of us.  She was concerned and sad and bored (let’s be honest – it’s no fun waiting around an old folks home!).  She was sensitive to the feelings of others, dispensing hugs to console.  In so many ways, her behavior was a model of well-adjusted decorum.

Obviously, given her presence at the final moment, she would participate in the visitation, funeral, and memorial luncheon as well.  The night Grandma died, we explained the events that would follow – she’s especially curious about burying people in the ground and thinks it’s a funny thing to do (me too).  Our main worry was the usual concern parents of four-year-olds have about behavior at any public event:  “No running around; stay by us; sit like a lady, you’re wearing a dress.”

Original work by Chuckumentary via Flickr

I remembered how uncomfortable I always was because I didn’t know what to say at funerals, so I just told Sydney to say “thank you” when people said they were sorry or pretty much anything about Grandma.  I think she really appreciated the tip and has been consistently gracious with those expressing condolences.

As for viewing the body, that has never been my favorite part.  We had explained that Grandma would be in a casket and that she would have makeup on and everthing.  Sydney actually helped pick out the clothes she would wear!  At the visitation and funeral, we simply asked Sydney if she wanted to go see Grandma, and of course she did.  She said Grandma looked  beautiful and that was pretty much it.  I feel good that she probably won’t ever share my discomfort with the custom.

Since the holidays this year, Sydney has had a sense of being a host.  We talked a lot about readying our home for guests and she welcomes others into our home happily.  We didn’t talk about this issue explicitly, but I think she realized our special place as family at Grandma’s events.  She certainly appreciated the special attention and, I think, accepted the social obligation of our role.

Sydney’s matter-of-fact approach to Grandma’s death has been a comfort in that we don’t have to worry unduely about depression.  It has also been a reminder that death is merely an inescapable natural process with which we must all cope.  She certainly has helped us more than I expected.

For us, there were so many reasons to facilitate Sydney’s participation in our public grieving and so few reasons not to, that the decision was an easy one.  That it comforted others was a happy (though expected) byproduct.  All Sydney’s life, on our frequent walks around Douglas, I have told Sydney that it makes people happy when she smiles at them and says hello.  I leave it at that.  I want her to know it’s a choice.  Obviously, I’m pleased and proud when she chooses to share her joy in that way, but I also respect that you just don’t always feel like it.

It’s not earthshattering news that I adore Sydney.  I do not claim to be the slightest bit objective, either.  But, she certainly does seem to have a gift for bringing joy to others and I’m honored to encourage and nurture that  gift.

Thanks for asking for my thoughts on this,
Jeff

I attended the funeral for Sydney’s grandma, and the most touching moment for me was when Jeff’s brother talked about what a blessing Sydney was through the whole process, but especially on Grandma’s last day. In what could have been a dark moment, she was a light. Her smile was infectious, her calm was catching, and her simple acceptance and love for her Grandma was compelling. Turns out it wasn’t the child that needed help dealing with death. It was the grownups.

Thank you, Jeff and Karen. I hope your transparency helps other parents through these difficult decisions.