Talking about death

We have been trying to prepare Ane (Tad is just too young) for the funeral. We have already told her about her great-grandma’s death. Unbeknownst to me, the Webmaster talked to her before Great-Grandma passed away, but I did talk to her about it once it had happened.

I brought out a photo album that had pictures of Ane as a baby and found one with Great-Grandma holding her. “Do you know who that is?” I asked.

“That’s baby Ane, with Great-Grandma,” she said.

I nodded. “Great-Grandma was very sick, sweetie, and she died today. She has gone to heaven.”

Ane’s face crumpled. “But I want her to stay here.”

I hugged her. “But Ane, she had lived a very long time and was sick. She went to heaven to be with Jesus, and now she is all better.”

That satisfied her to know that Great-Grandma was somewhere, but the whole thing has clearly been on her mind over the last few days. Here are some conversational snippets that we have had:

(Sunday morning, on the way to church)
Ane: “Mommy, is heaven up there?” (points to the sky)

Me: “I’m not exactly sure, sweetie. Most people think so.”

Ane: “Oh. I’ll just ask Jesus, then. He’s my friend, Mommy, remember?”

Me: “Yes, He is.”

Ane: “Just like in the song!”

Me: “Which song?”

Ane: “The Cubbies song, Mommy.” (The Awana Cubbies song that they sing every week ends with the line “For Jesus is a friend to us, He loves each girl and boy.” Ane then sang this line from the song, then paused.) “Mommy, I’m the girl.”

*****

(Monday, in the car)
Ane: “Mommy, when people go to the hospital, are they sick?”

Me: “Yes, sometimes. When Tad went to the hospital, he was hurt, not sick.”

Ane: “Do people die at the hospital?”

Me: “Yes, they do. Most times the doctors can fix them, but sometimes they can’t, and people do die there.”

Ane: “But Tad didn’t die.”

Me: “No, honey, he broke his arm. It needed fixing, but he wasn’t sick. He wasn’t going to die.”

Ane: “But Great-Grandma was sick.”

Me: “Yes, she was. But she has gone to heaven now, and she’s all better.”

Ane: “When are we going to heaven, Mommy?”

Me: “When Jesus decides it’s time for us to be there. I don’t know when that will be.”

Ane: “Oh, okay.”

*****

So, how have I done? There is no easy way to handle talking to a not-quite-four-year-old about death and dying. I think she will keep asking questions for a long while, especially after the funeral. I’ve already given her preschool teachers the heads-up as to what happened, so they don’t think she’s just spotaneously developed a morbid streak or start questioning what we let her watch on TV. But attending a funeral at this age presents a whole lot of issues, which I’ll write on tomorrow.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 14th, 2007 at 12:20 pm and is filed under Children, Family.
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