A couple nights ago at bedtime, Mike and I were (again) talking to Annie about when she was a baby. We got onto the point that everyone starts life as a baby. Mama was a baby, Daddy was a baby, Gramma, Bampa, everyone was a baby! This blew her mind.
“Mama, was even Rigby a baby?” She asked us.
We said that yes, Rigby had been a baby once, too. We then told her about the day we went to get her.
“Rigby’s doggy mommy had five boy and girl puppies in her litter. When we got there, three of her brothers and sisters had been taken by other families. Daddy and I picked Rigby, and an hour later another family picked up Rigby’s sister. Now they all live with other families just like us!”
Annie thought about this for a minute.
“So Rigby’s sister lives with another family? Like my sister?”
Mike and I looked at each other. And then, like we always do, we kept it simple.
“No, your sister doesn’t live with another family.”
I watched Annie’s face process this.
“Can I look at pictures of when Rigby was a tiny puppy?!”
Annie doesn’t have a concept of death yet. She does understand sickness, and being hurt, and seeing doctors in hospitals. I don’t want her to associate getting sick with dying, or to think that bad things happen in hospitals, especially since I am in them a lot right now. It’s not a secret – we’re just giving her the answers when she asks for them. So we’ll continue to answer her questions as she comes up with them, even though I am dreading the day she finally asks that follow-up.
I think that day is very soon, though…and no adorable puppy pictures are going to make it any easier.
Kate @ UpsideBackwards says:
Hugs! I think you are teaching her very well, and very sensibly.
Lots of love to you all.
Still Playing School says:
I think you handled it beautifully. We are navigating this together as E is Annie’s age so I know her questions are coming, too. The other day she wanted to know specifically where her sister is. Same as Annie.
Brandy says:
You are doing an amazing job. You are telling her small pieces in age appropriate ways when she shows she needs to know/learn more. That’s the very best we can do as parents.
My husband and I haven’t experienced the death of a child and my children haven’t lost a sibling but two years ago my grandfather, their great-grandfather, passed away. My children were very close to him, even at only 2 and 4 years old. They asked questions about his passing and no longer being there when they were processing things and still do to this day. We do our best to help them understand death each time they are ready to understand a little bit more.
I think you’re doing an excellent job of remembering and honoring Maddie while helping Annie understand something that even us adults have such a hard time comprehending.
Jessica says:
I think you’re handling it well.
Jenn says:
You guys a wonderful parents & I really do think you handled it well – keeping it real and simply. I know this is hard. I’m so sorry!!! I so wish Maddie was right there with you in person. Sending you both a big cyber hug!! xo
Heather says:
I think answering the questions as they come up is the only way to handle this “the right way”.
You’re being honest and supportive, that’s the best you can do.
Ellen says:
I have never commented on this issue and I spam wary of doing it now, but I want very very bpgently to suggest that, in not telling Annie that Maddie died, you might have left her to create a story that will be just as upsetting — the moreso for being a secret inside her 3yo head. Where does Annie think that Maddie is? Why does she think you have not told her? Those might be good questions for you to ask her, because I know from family history that little kids without information come up with their own answers and the adults were universally horrified by the kids’ ideas. You don’t want Annie to be scared of hospitals or illness but what scary idea might she have about Maddie’s absence instead?
I’m so sorry, I’ve never raised this before because I thought maybe you were abbreviating your conversations, but if Annie asked if Maddie was at a friend’s house, and you said no–well, where does Annie think she is? Please. I know this is going to be a heartbreaking conversation for you, but Annie might just find the truth more comforting than whatever answer she invented for herself.
Heather says:
It’s not a secret – she knows that Maddie is dead, it’s that she doesn’t know what dead means. She hasn’t asked follow up questions beyond that, i.e. “what is death” “how do you die” etc. She brings up Maddie several times every day and never seems scared or confused, but if she was we’d be sure to address it.
Right now we’re taking the approach our therapists have suggested, which is just answering her questions as she comes up with them. It’s sometimes hard to not blurt out all the information but they’ve all suggested that would be more scary and overwhelming, so we just let her lead the discussions.
Annalisa says:
Ellen,
I know that your question comes from a good place in your heart, but rest assured Mike and Heather handled this more than properly. The last thing they should do is overload Annie with explanations that she didn’t ask for because she’s not developmentally ready to process them.
When Annie changed the topic it wasn’t because she felt like she shouldn’t press on. It was that the answer was more than sufficient for her. Explaining more than what she needed to know would only confuse her further, not less.
Children are not capable of understanding death until they are at least at the concrete operational level, and as bright as Annie is, it’s unlikely she will be there for another year or two.
And Heather is right. Right now, when everyone is dealing with hospitals a lot, is totally the wrong time to bring up how people sometimes go in the hospital feeling sick, and don’t get better. At her age, and given the propensity of creating intricate fantasies most preschoolers have, she might imagine a terrifying scenario where mommy goes to the hospital and never comes back.
When she’s ready to understand about death, she will ask, and I know that Mike and Heather will answer the questions when they do come. Really, it’s the best way to handle death, be a sibling, a pet or a different relative.
Megan says:
Oh, Heather, you don’t even know me, and sometimes I just want to give you and Annie and Mike all big hugs. I think you’re handling this really well.
Babbalou says:
This is a very difficult discussion even when there’s been no loss within the family. With us, the discussion came up after my son watched the Bambi movie, so heads up on that one. You will find the words when the time comes, you’re such good parents – both of you. Your kids are so fortunate to have you as parents!
Sonya says:
Oh Heather, that’s so hard. You and Mike are doing a really good job with handling these questions. It’s so unfair that Annie will have to know about these things sooner than she should and it’s really unfair she doesn’t get to grow up with sweet Maddie. Hang in there and hope the rest of your pregnancy is smooth and safe.
amourningmom says:
Our twins were in the house the night that Sawyer died. When they woke up and could not find their little brother we had to tell them something.
We did not have a lot of time to come up with a response but I think I said something like Sawyer has gone to live with your big brother Jake (Jake died before they were born).
My mother in law died the next year. As we tried to tell the twins they chimed in with “Mom Mom went to live with Jake and Sawyer in the flowers.”
Telling them about death has definitely been harder for me than for them (at least so far). I also think that we will be explaining it again at each different stage of their lives (as they understand more).
I wish puppy dog pictures could make it easier. Sending you hope and hugs. xo
Holly says:
My daughter is a couple months younger than Annie. New Year’s Day 2012, her great-grandma died, as well as our special little cat (the one that was ‘hers’, if you will). Our cat died in our living room after having been diagnosed with lymphoma 2 weeks prior. She’d hid being sick for a long time. In any case, after she died, my daughter saw that my husband and I were sad and upset (not hysterical, just some quiet tears) and she actually went and pet our cat’s head and stared at her for a moment and it’s like she “knew”. I had never intended to put her in that situation, but at the same time, I’m glad it happened. She’s very matter of fact about GiGi and Cecelia dying now, and knows they’re not coming back. Now she applies that logic to dead bees she sees outside on the sidewalk, etc.
Kelly says:
I think with Maddie being barely three years old, what you are doing is spot on.
My youngest daughter is six, I have been ever so careful with the recent news of my Mom’s terminal cancer with her. I don’t want her to be afraid of the effects the treatment will have, and I don’t want her to be overly scared yet, that Nana is sick. She knows Nana is sick. She knows that Nana was in the hospital. She does not need to know that the doctors have given a time frame on how long Nana will be around yet.
It is too much for me sometimes, much less her.
The time will come when she needs to know more, or that she will ask a question that will lead to her knowing more. Until that time, it is all on a need-to-know basis, and honest answers when she does ask a question.
SR says:
I was searching amazon for a child’s book that would help explain to a younger child where the older child that they didn’t ever come to know has gone. But then I got to thinking-both you and Mike astound me with how much productivity you have writing-I was wondering if maybe it might be up your alley to write a personalized children’s book or just simplified text explaining the situation to Annie & making a point as to why she is healthy-because of the Doctors/she was a bigger baby (gestation might be hard to wrap her head around).
Auntie_M says:
You & Mike are amazing with the hard questions! I know that Annie doesn’t understand death–perhaps if she had been born & of an older age (such as her current age) when Maddie passed, she would understand. But she wasn’t and doesn’t.
We keep pictures on a shelf of all my nieces & nephews on the day they were born. My (just-turned) 4yo niece always asks if they are all pictures of her–even though she knows they aren’t. Then she picks up each frame and askes who each baby is (always starting with her own!) and when we get to Demetri, I always say, “That’s your cousin Demetri, Dante’s big brother, on the day he was born.” That used to be enough. Now she realizes that he should be here somewhere if he’s her favorite cousin’s big brother…so there are follow-up questions: Well, where is he? So now when we look at the pictures, when we get to his picture, I say, “That’s your cousin Demetri, Dante’s big brother, on the day he was born. He died and lives in heaven.” (As this follows our family’s belief system.) This still means nothing to her–heaven is where God is but that is vague and death really means nothing. Even when her birthday fish died within days, she didn’t totally get it…but it didn’t bother her.
My point in all this is that “death” and where the person’s spirit goes after death are hefty subjects for adults, let alone children.
Annie knows that Maddie is her sister (which is hugely special & far more important to her as she knows how much both Maddie & she are loved), and she knows that Maddie has died and no longer lives at her house. As a newly-3-year-old, I think those are pretty amazing concepts that she has taken in.
One thing I can venture a guess on, from looking at pictures of Annie, and reading this blog and the conversations you have as a family, she isn’t afraid that Maddie was sent away, or that Mommy & Daddy stopped loving Maddie. Death may not be something she understands now, but she doesn’t fear it.
But, yes, the day will come when understanding dawns and that day will be sad…a loss of innocence and, for Annie, it will be the 1st time that she truly looses her sister. And for that I mourn in advance for all of you. But I know that Mommy & Daddy will surround Annie with the love she knows and the comfort she needs…and as you’ve somehow always had the words in the past, the words will come then.
There are many of us out here praying for you (each in our own way & belief systems) in preparation of that day & time that grace will be on you all to work through that knowledge and grief in the “best” way possible. Because we love you all and your hearts are precious to us.
xo~Mary
Molly says:
Not that I have any experience with parenting, but I’ll bet there isn’t one “aha” moment when a child confronts their existential reality. Annie’s heard you talk about Maddie many times, and your best friend, and I think slowly, as you respond honestly and age-appropriately to her questions, just like you did here (awesome! by the way), she’ll begin to comprehend what death is. I suppose that’s a journey we all take and that lasts a lifetime, and you’re showing her that it’s worth facing honestly and simply, and it’s not a shameful reality that has to be denied.
I was raised religious so probably all my questions like this would have been about heaven. I’m secular now, so hearing about these kinds of other ways of confronting mortality like this is helpful to me.
Jelena says:
Big big hugs. You and Mike are such strong people.
Jennifer says:
When my older daughter was 3.5 (she’s nearly 4.5 now), we took her to the funeral of a close family friend who passed away because of a lack of childcare. The women was 89 and death was welcomed by her. She had honestly been waiting for 10 years since her husband had died. She was very religious, but my husband and I are not at all.
We explained as best we could what we were doing there and what death meant. She asked about the coffin and why it was being put in the ground. We explained that the woman’s body was in the coffin but that “she” wasn’t there anymore because she had died, and that the place where her coffin was being put into the ground was a place where the people who loved her to come to visit and feel close to her again. We chose not to tell her that she was in Heaven because we don’t really believe in that, and I didn’t want to make something up that was entirely untrue because I’m not comfortable parenting that way.
Then a few months later, one of our dogs died after a long illness (at least for a dog). She’d known the dog was sick but the last week of her life she went downhill very fast, and we had to explain that “it’s her time” and that it was “time for us to say goodbye forever”, that she was in pain. She was sad and did a fair bit of crying but also understood the idea of suffering and that death is sometimes something that makes us sad, but sometimes it’s the right time. Days later, when she saw her collar sitting on our counter she began to cry and said she missed her. We were honest with her all long.
Since then she’s asked a lot of questions about death (Mommy, am I gonna die someday? was not my favorite and I chose to redirect her), but we’ve talked about the fact that everyone dies. She’s even said some slightly disturbing and sometimes funny things about death. But the thing is, along the way, death became a normal part of life to her and not something to be afraid of or not talk about. And recently, when I asked her why she talked about death and dying so much, her response to me was: “Mommy, even though when someone dies we don’t get to see them anymore and that’s sad, it’s means they’re not in pain anymore and that’s good”.
Amy says:
My daughter has her share of health issues, so she knows the intimate details about hospitals and surgeries. When she was 3 1/2, one of her day-care classmates passed away. It amazed me how much she understood at such a young age. We talked about the fact Preston was now in heaven with our cat who had passed the year before and my Grandma who passed when she was 6 months old.
But, several days later she told me a story about helping Preston at school that day. It took my breath away. http://theturtlemom.wordpress.com/2012/08/16/preston/
I can’t fathom your position. But, you are so strong and Annie is such an amazing girl. It will all come together in time.
Bless you all!
Liz says:
My daughter will be 5 in May and never met my sister, who died shortly before I got pregnant. We speak about her Aunt often and I am very open about the fact that she died. It’s hard. I don’t know what is too much and I worry that I’m totally effing it all up but I just try to go with what feels right. I know I’m not giving my girl too much information–I never go into details, I just try to say that Aunt Jen got sick and she tried really hard to get better and the doctors all tried really hard to make her well but sometimes there’s sicknesses that doctors can’t cure or owies that doctors can’t fix.
My girl seems to take it all ok. She does not seem to be afraid of death because of our conversations so I hope that means I’m doing it ok.
I’m sure you’ve thought about this, but here are 2 books for kids that I have about death…they are not too graphic at all. We like them.
Lifetimes: The Beautiful Way to Explain Death to Children
and
When Dinosaurs Die: A Guide to Understanding Death
Hugs for you all.
Annalisa says:
Those are excellent suggestions. I’d also add “The Tenth Good Thing about Barney” by Judith Viorst to that list (the ending is so sad and yet so beautifully full of hope too!).
Krissa says:
I know this is almost a month old, but I just now saw it and I have to comment. You and Mike are wonderful parents. Your kids are very lucky.