Kids and grief

It's back to school time here in our house and that means lots of new experiences for our kids.

As we prepare and buy new school supplies, try to plan first day new outfits, learn our new teacher's names, it is a happy (and chaotic) time, but there is still an air of sadness that seems like it will never leave.

Also new are the comments which are becoming a part of our everyday lives. I'm not quite sure how to deal with these unusual circumstances, and, truth be told, I get downright angry at my father for leaving us (me) in this place, where I have to struggle with this.
For instance, the other day as we went through the checkout with our loads of notebooks, crayons, markers, scissors, rulers and binders, the cashier began a friendly conversation with the kids about school. You know, the standard "Are you excited for school?" and "What school will you be going to?". Well, as the kids sat chatting away to this very nice and talkative stranger, my bright 4 yr. old climbed up on the bag area to say "My grandpa died. He shot himself. We are kind of sad," as I quickly attempted to cover her mouth with my hand and give a weak smile of apology.
You see, kids don't feel the same shame as adults do when talking about suicide. If you are uncomfortable speaking about it, the root of that is usually shame. What will people think about me if they knew? What does it say about the kind of daughter that I was? I don't want anyone's pity, but why do I have to deal with this? Why did he chose to go this way?


For kids, it is vitally important that you speak of the death, and how it happened- the experts all say that the worst thing you can do is hide it from them, as one day they will find out and they will have to grieve all over again, their trust in you will be called to question. Kids process death differently, and with suicide, they don't understand the stigma surrounding it. Kids need to talk, talk and talk about their loved one, and their death. Grandpa Dale is a regular part of our conversations here, and many days I have to stop myself from stopping them- it is all a part of their healing process.

One day last week it got really cool during the night. Our windows were all open so we woke up with a chill in our bones. During breakfast, my 6 yr. said, "Mom, at least grandpa wasn't cold, since he is inside that warm little box. It must be super warm for him in there!" (Grandpa was cremated and for now sits in my room.) I chuckled at the logic of a 6 yr old, but I also realized something else in that moment.... my kids are always thinking of their grandpa and their loss. This is something we will all have to live with, learn how to navigate through. Any moment could bring on sadness and tears, or memories that leave us smiling, but Grandpa Dale left a void in our lives that will never be filled.

The only thing I have to battle the sadness, to deal with the unanswered questions and the burning anger that my kids even have to deal with this in their young lives is God. Without Him, I would be too weak to smile in these moments or cry without being completly overtaken in grief. He promises to heal the wounds left by my dad.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. PS. 147:3