Another Kind of Grief

If a child is old enough to reason, he is old enough to sense when he is being left out of an important discussion about a subject that should actually be spoken about in his presence. When my grandchildren lost their beloved dog, it mattered to them a great deal. They’d developed a strong attachment to this animal as he was both their playmate and their protector. They grieved and needed guidance and support on how to deal with their loss. They needed to mourn and to talk about their pet. They were young and knew little about death. I am not sure whether the youngest comprehended the permanence of it all. Their parents spoke to them a whole lot about their dog and when they went to bed that night, their father buried him in the garden. Next morning, he took them to the burial site and each of them piled on a some stones.

Not long after, their cat was attacked and died of her wounds. The burial process was repeated. Then the children requested another dog and their parents obliged.

I think it was a few weeks later that my husband passed away and the youngest grandchild who was five at the time, asked; “Is grandma going to bury Papa the way you buried our dog and our cat?”

When my children related this incident to me, it made me smile because of th innocent way my grandson had of dealing with the subject. A month or two after my husband’s funeral, he asked whether we could visit Papa. And the two of us did. We drove to the cemetery, parked, and walked till we reached my late husband’s grave. There, he asked many questions, amongst them; ‘Why is there an empty space next to Papa?” I told him that one day it would be for me but I added; “I have no intention of dying for a very long time,” and this satisfied him. He then asked whether we could walk around the cemetery  and look at other graves. I agreed. He was fascinated at the differences in the various tombstones and asked questions which I answered as honestly as I could and then he said in the way children do; “Okay Gran, now let’s go home.”