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Teaching my Children That Grief is Important
What the loss of their beloved dog taught my kids about death
Growing up my parents were always kind of weird about death. They didn’t let my sister and I go to my grandfather’s funeral when I was 5 because they thought it would scare us. As a result, I always felt like I never got to truly say goodbye.
When I was about 7 or 8 years-old I entered what I call “the death phase.” I’m sure there is a more textbook term for it, but I became afraid of death, dying, and what came or didn’t come after we die. I think it was triggered by both the death of my grandfather and a story arc on the soap opera, Days of our Lives, whereas the character of Carly is buried alive by her evil mother-in-law. My mom and grandma watched the show incessantly, so I did by default.
I became obsessed with what happens when we die. I would ask my parents questions about what happens to our body, where will they be when I die, and if there really was a heaven and hell like I’d been taught in Sunday school. It would keep me awake at night. Frankly, I was terrified of death and anyone I loved dying.
Years later, I had the honor of sitting vigil while my maternal grandmother was passing. She had battled a long, hard fight with lung cancer including many rounds of chemotherapy and…
