This pandemic year has brought death front of mind. The latest coronavirus death count is 200k+ and last week one of my husband’s uncles passed away, 12 hours after receiving a COVID-19 diagnosis in hospital. Now we are among the many around the world who have lost a loved one to this insidious virus. So I’ve been finding myself often thinking about how I am going to explain death to my daughter…who is only two years old.

Like me, you don’t want the first time your child learns of a loved one’s death to be hard. Even with hindsight, I don’t know that things could have been explained and handled better by the adults in my life when I first experienced the death of a loved one at age 7, going on 8 (my maternal grandfather died 10 days before my 8th birthday).

In the event that you are struggling in this same endeavor, here’s how I think I’ll try to explain death to my child(ren):

The News Of Death Hits People Differently

How you take the news of death depends on a lot of things: your age, your experiences up until that point, your natural born temperament, and how close you were to the person.

Distance

I knew my maternal grandfather from age 1 till the day he died, and his death hit me like a tidal wave. Yet, I felt a strange form of guilt for years over not feeling that immense level of sadness when I learned of my paternal grandmother’s passing, 4 years later. But with hindsight I realize that this was normal because I wasn’t as close in the same way to her, as I was to him. It took me years to believe that my feelings when I learned of her passing did not mean that I didn’t love her.

I had to accept early in my life that she couldn’t be a part of my life as much as my maternal grandparents. But I felt a significant kinship in her presence during those two summers I got to spend with her in the former Yugoslavia, years later. And I’m so grateful I was able to have my maternal grandmother there when I was born abroad. Sadly my paternal grandfather passed before I was born.

So in my case, one set of my grandparents lived overseas in a village, during an era when speaking on the telephone was not as affordable or accessible. The other set I visited quite often since they lived an hour’s drive away in a neighboring state.

So don’t feel guilty for not grieving or feeling like everyone else. Showing respect to their memory by sharing about them speaks volumes of your true feelings for them. There are many different love languages, and the same can be said for ways of reacting to the news of someone passing.

“I hope death is like being carried to your bedroom when you were a child & fell asleep on the couch during a family party. I hope you can hear the laughter from the next room.”

Twitter account @petfurniture (Lilies Abounded), published January 29, 2021.

Death Is A Mystery, But It Doesn’t Have To Be Scary

Death is what no one can be sure of, unless they die. Some people believe in ghosts or spirits of loved ones visiting us. Some believe that our loved ones never leave, and stay imprinted in our heart. Others subscribe to the belief in reincarnation, that we all come back in one form or another. Whether there is a heaven and hell, or nothing after death. But the most important thing for your well being is finding how you can gain comfort in this unknown.

The day my maternal grandmother passed away, it was just 15 minutes before midnight (on the eve of Good Friday). Father Miloš Vesin, the priest who officiated her funeral, said that the date and time of her passing means that she was very pure of heart. Lovely ways of looking at the passing of a loved one like this, are what lighten the weight of grief on our minds.

Let your imagination give you your answers about what happens next. Is a butterfly that passes my way one of my grandmothers trying to reassure me that they are keeping an eye on me? Maybe not, but I can’t disprove the notion either.

Death Happens When You Least Expect It

Sometimes death is anticipated, like when you know a loved one has been battling an illness for a while. Other times, death takes you by surprise. But don’t be afraid of death or obsess about it either. A life well spent is one where you don’t spend time worrying about what you cannot control.

Death Is A Part Of The Cycle Of Life

Everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time, so please don’t forget to feel all those feelings you’re having. And above all, don’t ever feel ashamed of them or yourself. The strategy of bottling up your feelings and putting them where it’s hard to reach always fails. If you don’t deal with them now, those feelings will come out in hurtful and distructive ways when you don’t expect them to. The feelings you don’t deal with end up controlling you.

So cry your eyes out, scream, talk to someone caring. Do something active or creative that you love (like biking, painting, writing, gaming)—get everything out that is bringing you down. The sadness and pain will probably come up again several times in the first few years, but you do get stronger and a better handle on the feeling as time goes by. Burying your head in the sands of the past too long can distract us and potentially rob us from living our own rich lives.

So with loss I recommend life, love, and taking time to grieve; but also celebrate the great memories of the ones we lost. Treasure the moments you can still have with your granparents, show them love, pay tribute to them, and every chance you get: give them a lot of hugs. No such thing as too much when it comes to grandparents.

Death Can Bring Closure

When you see a granparent deteriorating before your eyes, their passing may give you a bit of comfort in knowing that they no longer will suffer; that they are relieved of what was ravaging them.

History shows many metaphors, euphemisms and names for how to refer to death. For instance, Shakespeare’s Hamlet famously called death the unknown country. Whatever you call it, death is something that doesn’t have to scare you—it’s meaning is for you to choose.

Book Recommendation

Foreward by Fr. Miloš Vesin, the man who officiated both my maternal grandparents’ funerals—and the man who baptized me.