My father is dying. How do I tell my children?
My father has terminal cancer. He and my mom have been very involved grandparents, keeping the kids for special one-on-one sleepovers and hosting holidays since my children were born. We’ve always been very honest with the kids but I don’t know how to be honest about this. I can barely face the fact that I’m losing my dad and I’m a grown woman. They are 9, 7 and 5. Our five-year-old just started kindergarten. Thanksgiving is coming. For the first time in my life I don’t know if my dad will be here for our favorite holiday. How do I explain this to my kids? - Trying not to cry
Hey, it’s ok to cry. We teach our kids about surviving heartache by shedding tears, getting up, and going on. They don’t learn anything when we hide hard truths and our own pain. Like everything else in life, there’s a balance to be struck here – we don’t wallow or wail in front of our small children because that would frighten them – but we do show that it hurts when we lose someone we love. We don’t soldier through as if nothing is going wrong in our worlds right now, but we do maintain boundaries (homework still gets done most nights, even when there’s a hospice bed in the living room) and rules (we might have extra dessert once in a while because life is short and pie is good – but we eat healthy meals every day).
Kids understand death differently at different ages and stages. Your kindergartener is just becoming old enough to comprehend concepts like “alive” and “dead” and she will miss her grandfather. Your 9-year-old surely understands that dead means “never again will I see my grandpa” even if “never again” is a bit of an incomprehensible time span. Your 7-year-old, as in most things, will be somewhere in between.
All three will benefit from clear, honest communication. “Grandpa is very sick. It’s not the kind of sickness we can catch, like the flu. His body is struggling to work right now. The doctors are trying to help him, but his body may not be able to continue. We are loving him and taking care of him and doing the best we can right now.”
When the time comes for them to visit grandpa and his illness is obvious, prepare them by describing the sights, sounds and even smells they might encounter. Invite them to make him a drawing or card or bring a special thing to share (a colorful rock, stuffed animal they can leave with him, whatever they come up with as a comforting object). Visits of 10-15 minutes are probably long enough, depending on how well grandpa is able to communicate.
When the visit ends, take some time to ask the kids what they saw, what they thought, and what questions they have. If one of them asks, “Is grandpa going to die?” It’s ok to say, “Honey, we are all doing the best we can to care for him right now, but it is likely that he will die from this disease. I don’t know when. Right now, he’s here.”
It’s tempting to try and soften the pain of loss by preparing with terms like “Grandpa will die soon” –but that rarely works with kids – children often think ‘soon’ is happening before dinnertime. Explaining what’s happening right now is enough information. They will guide you with questions if they are ready for more.
It’s ok for young people to see the body of a deceased loved one. They can touch him and say goodbye. This is another opportunity to explain the difference between alive and dead. “Grandpa has died. His heart is no longer beating, he is no longer breathing. He can’t feel or think or see us anymore. We can touch him, but he is no longer aware of that touch. He is like an empty shell - what we knew as ‘grandpa’ is not there anymore.” It’s important to explain this concrete understanding of death before moving into concepts of the afterlife. If we skip over this part and say, “Grandpa is in heaven now” it can sound like grandpa left us, or that he’ll be back.
Tending to your own pain throughout this process is hard – but necessary. People will say, “call me if there’s anything I can do” and it’s your job to take them up on that! Help with meals, the daily pick up/drop off of kids, and time to exercise and reflect are paramount for you right now. You must put on your own oxygen mask before assisting those traveling with you. It is not selfish to take care of ourselves, it is often the most important thing we can do when our world is in unwelcome and painful transition. Reaching out to hospice or hospital support systems are a good start towards finding a local grief support connection. Being with people who have been there can help tremendously at this time. You don’t have to figure it all out right away, and you will find your path. Hugs to you dear woman.