A Dialogue about Death

About two weeks ago, we lost one of our Labradors. Both of our dogs are on the elderly side of things and so his sickness, while sudden, was not unexpected. While it was difficult for all of us, I was especially worried about the kids. This would be the first loss they'd experience of something that touched their daily life. In case you weren't aware, we are also atheists. So we had to sit down and talk about how we'd discuss death and what that dialogue might look like for each of our children. There isn't a nicely pruned story, edged with misplaced morality that we can trot out and use for comfort. And frankly, I'm glad of that. It forces us to act purposefully and thoughtfully.

How do we encourage honesty and acceptance of death and grieving in a way that is comforting and helps our children feel safe?

These are a few of the things that we focused on in our approach.

Timber, 2005

Timber, 2005

Be Honest

The rainbow bridge is a lovely story and it's nice to imagine that someday your pets will meet you in the great beyond, their tails wagging enthusiastically. You may really believe that's possible. I don't. In my experience, while these stories may seem to provide comfort, that's mostly an illusion for adults. Kids realize only one thing- someone or something they loved is no longer a part of their life.

It is difficult to understand and to accept, no matter how many colorful roadways and unicorns you use to temper the reality.

So if you don't believe in an afterlife, don't paint a fairy tale for your kids. Whatever you decide to do, I'd implore you not to equate sleeping and death. Many times, I hear people refer to putting dogs "to sleep." This is a terrible way to frame things for children and can cause unnecessary fear. Be clear that sleep and death are not the same thing. Unless you don't like sleeping at night and prefer to spend your time holding small people who are terrified to close their eyes. Then by all means, proceed with your plan.

Timber Sleeps, 2010

Timber Sleeps, 2010

Keep it Simple

In our discussions about the impending death of our Labrador with the eight year old, we framed the discussion by saying that our dog was sick and it was not possible for him to get better. Then we allowed him to lead the discussion from there.

I firmly believe that when kids ask a question, they are ready to hear the answer.

So we answered everything he asked about cancer, the process of euthanizing, afterlife, and funeral plans. He expressed a belief in the possibility of reincarnation and we supported his right to explore that, although we made clear neither of us personally believed that's what our dog would experience when he died. With our preschooler, the conversation was much different. She understood that our dog was sick and that he would die. But the reality of death made absolutely no sense to her. She kept asking "But where will he go?" At this age, no matter how you frame it, the finality of death simply doesn't compute. You will be able to offer comfort but not understanding.

Timber, Age 10

Timber, Age 10

Openness and Acceptance.

Everyone is going to feel differently about this loss. Being open about your feelings can teach kids to accept their own grief, whatever form it takes. Our Labrador's death hit me much harder than I expected and I was a mess for a few days, often dissolving into puddles of tears. I didn't try to hide it. Our eight year old observed this and scowled at his father, who was generally putting a "brave" face on things and acting cheerful. He expressed that he thought my husband was being callous, that he didn't appreciate Dad's forced levity while we were all trying to grieve.

We explained that grief is very personal and while some people may feel like being cheerful is disrespectful to the serious of the loss, others want to focus on celebrating their memories.

Both approaches are acceptable as long as we respect each other's right to grieve in a way that is genuine and can provide healing.

Timber, July 2014

Timber, July 2014

Moving forward

While it may take some time, at some point you'll notice that life has moved forward and your kids may be ready to have some closure. In my experience, the best way to offer this is to do two things.

Before the death of the loved one, having some sort of party or event to say goodbye helps tremendously to prepare everyone and lay the groundwork for acceptance.

With our kids, there wasn't time to do the full event that I wanted to. We had to settle for a final day where each of them got up to an hour or so with our Labrador, laying quietly next to him and stroking his fur. We offered to allow our eight year old to be present when the dog was euthanized, but he wisely declined. Some kids would have been able to handle it and it would have helped their grieving process. For others, the trauma of that moment would be more damaging than helpful. After the death, I'd suggest a ceremony of some sort where you lay the loved one to rest is important for closure. For our dog, we'll hold a ceremony in the backyard where we'll share funny stories and pictures, then bury him under his favorite tree.

I plan to mark the place with a rock because I think it's important for the kids to know that even though our Labrador's physical body is gone, he lives in our memories and he will always be part of our family.

I've told them when they want to think of him or talk to him, they can simply come out and sit under the tree and hold this rock in their hand, secure in the knowledge that we loved him and he will never be forgotten.

Timber Tog, "The Pirate Dog" ~ 2005-2014

Timber Tog, "The Pirate Dog" ~ 2005-2014

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