Tuesday, May 21, 2019

Grieving With Children

My Dad and I in Dripping Springs, Texas ca. 1962.


Grief is a very natural process for dealing with significant losses in our lives.  However, it is not necessarily an inherent or intuitive process.  It involves learned behaviors both within our spirit and in the world around us.  In short, grief is an acquired process.  It takes both learning and practice to do it well.  Some folks never seem to get the hang of it.  Others seem to find their way more easily, even when the circumstances of the loss are similar.  The critical difference between the two may be their early experiences of death and the role models/teachers that were present when they first experience a death.  If this is true, then we need to pay particular attention to our grieving especially when we are being observed by young eyes.  In the next few pages I hope to share a few insights about how to help those young spirits acquire what they need to grieve well throughout their lives.

Children have a variety of understandings and ways that they experience the death of a loved one. These differences depend upon where they are in mental and emotional development as well as many other factors including family setting, etc.  No two children will grieve a similar loss in the same way (just like older folks.)   I do not have space to explore all of the differences that mental and moral development have on a child’s experience of death.  (I will include links to online resources to help the reader explore these further.)  However, there are some things that can be said, in general, about a child’s experience of another’s death.

A child’s encounter with the death of someone they know may be their first experience of death.  It will be a new experience accompanied by strange feelings and incomprehensible reactions from the adults around them.  It can be very disorienting and carry expectations for behavior that uncomfortable and seemingly nonsensical.  If the death was of a primary care-giver, then all this is complicated by feeling abandoned and fearful that others will abandon them as well.  This means that the people around them need to be especially sensitive to the needs and concerns of children who may be affected by the loss.

The child will have a great number of questions about the experience of death.  But it is important to remember that these are a child’s questions.  They may not have the same depth of insight or concern that an adult may have in asking the same question.  When they are asking “Where is Grandpa?” they may not be looking for an extended explanation of heaven.  They may simply want to know why Grandpa is not in his chair.  Further, their questions grow out of their previous experiences of loss when similar feelings arose.  The last time Grandpa was not in his chair, he went to the hospital but came home in a few days.  They may be asking when Grandpa will be home.  It is very important that we work to understand what a child is asking before offering an answer.  Then we need to limit our response to their real question.

Most children are still struggling to understand the feelings that constantly bubble up within their lives.  (Most Adults do as well but that is for another blog.)  Children are still learning the emotional language of life.  Therefore, when particularly strong feelings arise, the child may be hesitant to express them verbally.  This is especially true when the grown-ups seem to be having a difficult time as well.  Children may “act out” their feelings or express them in non-verbal ways.  This acting out is not dishonest or misbehaving.  It is their way of expressing and processing the deep current of emotional energy that is swirling in their body-mind-soul.  If they suppress it, it will surface in time.  Mot agree that children need the freedom to grieve in their own way (just like adults) and need to be helped in seeing their “acting out” as a sign of their grief.  If the “acting out” become destructive or hurtful, the adults can help them re-direct that energy in more helpful and safe ways.

Children believe that they are more vulnerable and uninformed than the adults around them.  They will look to the significant adults in their lives for clues on how to respond to the death.  Unfortunately, as they get older, they may not want to admit their vulnerability or confusion, so they may watch their elders out of the corner of their eye.  But rest assured they are observing and learning from the adults around them when the storms of grief begin to blow.   What they need more than anything else is honesty from the grow-ups.  They do not need to be sheltered from the reality of death.  When they sense that the adults are “hiding something” their highly developed child imaginations will fill in the space with their own ideas.  These can be far more disturbing than the truth.  Further, they may learn to distrust what the adults say and feel further abandonment.  The grown-ups will need to be open and honest with the children as they walk through the shadowed valley.  By listening carefully and responding with sensitivity and compassion, the adult can help the child grow through their experience of grief.

In general, younger children have a very small “footprint” in the world.  Their world may consist solely of their immediate family.  As they get older, the “footprint” grows to included extended family, classmates, friends, the neighborhood, and even the city.  As these relationships grow so does the child’s exposure to the grief of others.  The child will be influenced by a larger group and the parent may have very little control over what the child learns and observes.  Therefore, it is imperative that parents and grandparents “stay in touch” with their children even as they grow into greater levels of maturity.  The adults need to be available when the child encounters confusing or contradictory feelings and understandings.  And, more importantly, as the child get older, the parent needs to become more attuned to listening rather than talking to the child.  They may need fewer answers and better questions from the grown-ups.

Children struggle to balance their need for security and the need to explore.  Because the world seems new to them, their natural inquisitiveness will lead them to climb the boundaries and see what’s on the other side.  However, they are generally held back from going too far afield by their need to be safe in a world of unknowns.  When the unknown is the loss of someone who is important to the, this will lead them into what some may consider “morbid curiosity” about death.  It may lead to uncomfortable questions for parents.  At times, it can lead to becoming isolated because the adults are not prepared to deal with the world that the child is struggling to understand.  It is very important that the adults allow the child to explore the world of death and dying with honesty and forthrightness.  If a question or concern is beyond the adult’s ability to address in that moment, it is okay to simply say “I am not ready to talk about that right now but hold on to it and we will talk about it when I am able.”

Lastly, the best thing that an adult can do to help their children grieve well is to come to terms with their own grief.  By being comfortable with our grief we will be able to communicate more effectively the essential truth that grief is a normal response to the loss of someone we care about.  When a child is surrounded by people who can acknowledge and respond in healthy ways to a significant loss, they are able to model their grief and accept it as a natural and necessary part of living.

Children need the presence and support of those adults who they trust and depend on in their everyday lives.  Adults owe them our honesty and sensitivity, our undivided attention and commitment to help them grow through the swirling currents of emotions and confusing experiences that have taken over their world.  But, in being with our children, we will also find gifts for our own grief.  A child’s essential honesty and imagination can open our eyes to sources of comfort we may be overlooking.   The love that a child returns can be among the most healing antidotes to the pain of grief.  When we open our heart to the children around us, we discover life beyond the loss and pain of the moment.   

I was 15 when my Father died of a heart attack.  My brother had picked me up from school and told me the news.  I was in shock and could not process the changes that my life was experiencing.  But when we got home, I went in and found my mother laying on her bed.  She reached out and pulled be in.  In those moments she helped me understand that even though our world had changed, we would be okay.  She did not hide her tears and, in doing so, gave me permission to share my tears as well.  She helped me to understand that hurting was not a reason to give up.  Dad was gone but our family would continue.  Life would be different but in my Mother’s embrace I understood that my hurting was as it should be and that we would find our way.  In the next few months she showed me how to grieve well.

I pray that every child that loses a parent or grandparent will have someone to help them discover that grief is not a disease or abnormality that threatens our happiness.  I pray that they will have someone who will hold them close and share their grief experience.  In those experiences I pray that they will discover the resilience of life by plumbing the depths of love and trust, joy and hope in the midst of their loss.

Grieve well, my friends.  And be sure and pay attention to the young people.  You have much to offer and much to gain!

Blessings,
Bob

If you would like more information about childhood grief, please take a look at the following links.






Thursday, May 2, 2019

Afraid to Grieve



C.S. Lewis was an Irish-born English professor who is best known for writing fiction (The Chronicles of Narnia) and Lay Christian theology (Screwtape Letters, etc.)  Following the death of his spouse in 1960, Lewis began to journal his grief.  In 1961 he published A Grief Observed that reflected the depth and breadth of his grief in the year following her death.  It was published under a pseudonym so that he could write honestly and openly about his experiences.  His experiences were so meaningful that it is said that many of his friends, not knowing that he was the author, recommended the book to him to help him with his grief.  Following his death in 1963, the book was re-published bearing his name as the author.  It became a classic telling of the story of grief.  One of the gems that shines from those pages is:

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” ~ C.S. Lewis

In the years following Lewis’s death, the world became distracted by a misreading of Elizabeth Kübler-Ross’s book On Death and Dying.  This popularized the ill-founded notion that grief followed predictable “stages” that lead us into one another until the grief resolved.  Most people who work with the bereaved have seen through this sham and have returned to the work of the far more honest and meaningful thoughts given voice in Lewis’ little book.

For many there is nothing predictable or resolvable in the grief experience.  It is a long and lonely walk through a shadowed world.  The shadows of grief are filled opportunities for our mind to take off on a wild chase for explanations and our soul to wince with pain.  Among the companions that many experience along the way is fear.

Fear rises out of a perception of a deep threat.  This threat may present itself as a clear and present danger of pain or worse.  As far as fear is concerned, the mere perception is much more important that the reality that the danger represents.  It forces the body to prepare to fight or flee and the mind to focus almost exclusively on the identified threat.  We develop a tunnel vision that helps us deal with the threat.  Unfortunately, this makes it difficult to do a reality check on the danger.  Thus, fear tends to build on itself and overwhelm the soul of the deeply fearful.  Real or not, fear can overwhelm and consume a lifetime.

The grieving will have countless opportunities for fear to take hold.  It may begin soon after the moment of death where the survivor holds their tears in check, fearing that they will lose control and “never stop crying.”   This fear can lead to a lifetime of holding their grief in check in order to keep it from “destroying their life.”   In the process they drown in the unwept tears of their grief.  The fears can crop up when the many unwelcome changes wrought by the loss begin to accumulate.  These changes include the mundane, everyday changes in lifestyle to the deeper, more profound changes that come with losing your cheerleader, sounding board, lover, best friend, and daily companion.  The fear of a lifetime of loneliness, financial struggle, isolation, unwelcome changes to the routines of living, or the loss of an expected future all combine to foster a deep fear of the untrustworthy nature of living.  It may even lead to a loss of the faith that had always sustained us as we turn our fear into anger and distrust of our god.  As Lewis rightly observed, “Grief feels a whole lot like fear.”

Fortunately, whether these perceptions of fear are grounded in reality or not, we can learn to live with our fears. But before we get to that, I want to warn you against the obvious and dangerous trap.  It does not matter whether the threat invoking the fear is likely to occur or not.  Fear is fear and we cannot make it go away by simply thinking it through.  Some folks will try to “help” us by telling us that our fears are not real.  Frankly, no one is able to know the future that invokes fear.  We may be able to argue, after extensive analysis, that a fear is more or less likely to come true.  But when our attention is so riveted on the source of our fear, we are seldom able to step back and make an object analysis of something as subjective as fear and the unknown that evokes it.  Rationalizing away our fears may seem like an obvious way to help a friend through grief, but it seldom, if ever, works.  Rather than focusing on the object of the fear, it is far more helpful to help the person learn to find life through the fear itself.

A Few Observations on Fear and Grief

Fear, not grief, distracts us from the journey ahead through our grief.

Fear, not grief, prevents us from facing the changes that have come upon us.

Fear, not grief, prevents us from receiving the gifts that grief offers us; love, hope, comfort, remembering, comforting other who are also grieving, and many others.

Grief, not fear, will lead you through the darkness and into a new day.

Grief, not fear, will open your heart to the love of those around you.

Grief, not fear, will honor your relationship to the one you have lost and continue to welcome them into your mind and soul.

As you make your journey through your own shadowed valley, do not be surprised by the fear that may bubble up from time to time.  Recognize it for what it really is, grief.  Look beyond it and keep walking.  There are blessings in abundance awaiting you as long as you have the eyes to see them and the soul to receive them.

Blessings,
Bob