The overall idea of death is a mystery within itself. My son is now seven, and I think he understands it better than he did a year ago. But what parent wants to explain death to their child.
When a close loved one or relative dies, how do we tell them that we may never see this person again? How do we explain life after death, when we ourselves have never experienced it?
And sometimes, just pointing to the sky and proclaiming an invisible being, or beings are there watching us, and or waiting on us, can be confusing and scary.
A little over a year ago I lost my closest aunt, who was more like a mother to me; especially since my mother passed away when I was 12 years old. My son was close to my aunt as well, she loved him like her own grandson. And suddenly, the cancer that had been dormant for years, took over more rapidly than expected, to the point that one day she was sending me a text about getting together, a week later she was hospitalized, and finally a week after that, she took her last breath.
I had to tell my son, and somehow make it, make sense. I think I said something about she’s not coming back and that we won’t be able to see her anymore. His reaction was blank. I wasn’t hysterical when I told him, but behind closed doors, I was extremely hysterical. My reason for being calm in front him is because I wanted him to feel whatever he felt without my influence. And so, he was calm, he didn’t cry, but he did make a very sad and upset face.
Nearly 8 months later, I was driving to the store and out of no where, my son begins crying. I looked at him through my rearview mirror. And said,
“Boy? What are you crying about?” Barely able to speak, he wiped a few tears. And replied,
“Aunt Pam is dead.” At first, I didn’t know what to say. I thought we passed a Burger King or something and he was crying because I didn’t stop. It was just so random. I almost cried as well, but I told him that it was okay and normal to be sad, a little late, but normal still. Even as I write this, the pain still hurts and crying is inevitable.
More recently, my son was playing video games. And if “you” have ever played video games, you know that dying in a game means nothing when you can come right back to life or earn extra lives. Again, my son asks me a question out of no where. He said,
“Mom, will we die?” I told him yes. He said, ” Hmmm… When I die, will I somehow still exist on earth?” I told him only in the minds of those who remember us. I assured him that death was not planned and could happen at anytime. He nodded okay and finished playing his game.
The other night, I was going through old videos of him and we came across a video of our Guinea Pig Winter
“Winter” our Guinea Pig
who died a few months back and he insisted that we watch it. And for whatever reasons, this particular video had music in the background. I work on and create videos from time to time, so I think that this was one video that I started, but didn’t finish.The video was nearly 3 minutes long. It was of My son, myself and Winter. Within one minute of watching the video, my son began to cry, and so did I. It was a clear moment of brief mourning that we shared. He never had the chance to physically say goodbye. My husband and I made sure we disposed of her body before he woke. It didn’t make her death easier on us, but we did what was needed on a workday and school night.
But that moment we sat watching the video, helped me to see that he now comprehends death.
To me, death is the idea of going away into a deep sleep, within this sleep there is no pain or sorrow and that gives us, the living, peace of mind. The dead are dead and we can’t do anything to bring them back. But the living must continue to live until our time comes to go into a deep sleep where there is no pain or sorrow.
Beautiful Joi 