— Can our presence at the last breaths of a loved one help us heal?
By Elaine Soloway
My mother’s last words to us were, “Drive carefully.” She had been admitted to a Chicago hospital a few days earlier after signs of a heart attack. It was Dec. 19, 1981, just shy of her 69th birthday on January 30.
As directed by Mom, with my spouse at the wheel, we drove silently home, grateful she was in the good hands of her internist and in one of Chicago’s most prestigious medical centers. But in the middle of that same night, we were awakened by a phone call. I lay silent as my spouse picked up the receiver. I listened, then watched as he pulled a tissue out of the nearby box and handed it to me. “Your Mom died,” he said.
I had no idea her condition was that grave. I pummeled my pillow, soon damp with my tears, shattered I had not been there for her final breaths.
They are likely thinking of my eventual last breaths and are hoping to avoid the trauma and frantic flights that would get them to me in time.
That long ago scenario has resurfaced because my adult children, who live on the East Coast, are asking me to move from Chicago to Boston where I’d be closer to them and my grandchildren. I am 85 and gratefully in good health. But they are likely thinking of my eventual last breaths and are hoping to avoid the trauma and frantic flights that would get them to me in time.
I understand my children’s worries. When my mom died, I dreaded my call to my brother, who lived in Kansas City, Missouri. “Why didn’t you let me know it was so serious?” he charged. “I could’ve flown there and seen her before she died.”
My apologies tumbled with my tears. “I didn’t know it was so serious,” I said. His grief, and my guilt, affected our close relationship. It was as if I had deliberately kept silent because he was her favorite.
Gratefully, we moved on to have a loving relationship. Frequent phone calls and occasional visits to each other’s town were salve. When he became seriously ill at 83, I traveled to see him. But when he died a few days later, I was not there for his final breaths.
‘Please Don’t Let Daddy Die’
Long before my mother’s death, I missed the last breaths of my father. He was 47, a heart attack fueled by diabetes, smoking three packs of Camels a day, and obesity. It was 1958 and I was a 20-year-old student at Roosevelt University when I was called to the school’s office to take a phone call from my uncle. “Get to the hospital right away,” he said.
Hospice workers report that some people who are dying wait to be alone for their final breaths.
I remember racing down several flights of marble stairs. “Please don’t let Daddy die,” I repeated as I sought a cab. But Dad was already gone when my uncle had called. My uncle met me outside of Dad’s room. And with his arm around my shaking body, said, “I’m so sorry; he’s gone.” I missed his final breaths, but I’m certain his labored words would have included, “I love you, Princess.”
My second husband, Tommy, was in hospice at our home after suffering several years of frontal temporal degeneration (FTD) and lung cancer. Neighbors helped me move our queen-sized bed to a different corner of our bedroom and assemble a hospital bed with guardrails. Although some had urged me to move Tommy from the hospital directly to a hospice center, I refused. I wanted him to know I was with him ’round the clock, not miles away where he might feel abandoned, and I bereft.
“I’ll be downstairs,” I told him one night. “And I’ll be up to kiss you goodnight before I go to sleep.” He smiled and squeezed my hand. I had barely settled on the couch when the hospice worker appeared at the top of the stairs. “He’s gone,” she said.
I learned this pause is not unusual. Hospice workers report that some people who are dying wait to be alone for their final breaths.
Now I have far outlived both parents and a husband. I doubt that fact has mollified my children’s concern about the 984 miles that stretch long and unknown between us. I am grateful for our strong relationship. I understand that their careers and own family obligations have skimmed our in-person meetings in Chicago to just a few times a year.
Looking for Peace
But what if I did heed their request and slice those miles to a more manageable five-minute car ride away? Then, if my fatal day arrived in their own backyard, they might be able to be part of a Jewish ritual that could bring all of us peace.
“So often, the experience of a loved one dying gets crowded out by the emotional needs and agendas of family members.”
In my search for end-of-life healing, I found “The Last Breath — Enriching End of-Life Moments” published in the medical journal JAMA by Dr. Martin F. Shapiro, who is a member of the Department of Medicine at Weill Cornell Medical College in New York.
He writes, “In Jewish tradition, the soul leaves the body with the dying breath, and it aids the soul on its journey if those present say a prayer, ‘The Shema” (“Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One”) as the individual breathes their last breath.”
In his remembrance of his own mother’s death, Shapiro explains, “I certainly did not believe that our words had provided Mom with a ticket to heaven … what we did discuss, and all agreed on that it was a wonderful experience … So often, the experience of a loved one dying gets crowded out by the emotional needs and agendas of family members. Saying this prayer structured our experience in a positive way.”
I realize that even if I did move to Boston, we could emulate the scene in Chicago when despite living in the same city as my parents, or just downstairs from my husband, I missed their last breaths. But at least they would not have to endure an airplane ride with their hearts mimicking a flight’s turbulence.
Should last breaths be enough of a reason for me to move 984 miles away from my current home?
I’ll leave that to my children.
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!
Five of the best books about grief
— Moving memoirs and a magic-realist novella are among these stories that can help provide comfort and perspective
When it comes to grief, a list of a thousand books wouldn’t be enough. This small selection is offered in the hope that it might contain something that provides solace – or at least that it might point the way to something that does.
Grief is the Thing With Feathers by Max Porter
The premise of this poetic novella – giant crow moves in with bereaved family after mother dies – sounds unlikely. But through this brilliant semi-allegory, Porter captures how loss can upend a family, seemingly stretching space and logic in surreal ways. Told through voices of two boys, their father, and a shapeshifting crow, this is a funny, frightening and loving experiment in magical thinking. As an adult who was bereaved as a child, I approached this tale with some trepidation – fearing it might cut too close. In fact, it provided a kind of fierce comfort – holding pain up to the light, and aslant.
Sad Book by Michael Rosen
Grief might not always be beyond words, but it sometimes needs little elaboration. This spare book, written about the sudden death of Rosen’s son, Eddie, illuminates how grief’s complexity can be rendered through seemingly simple words and images. “Who is sad?” , Rosen writes. “Sad is anyone. It comes along and finds you”. This is not strictly a children’s book, but a book that recognises how acutely grief can speak to the child within us. Quentin Blake’s grey wash illustrations create a space for sadness to breathe.
You Are Not Alone: A New Way to Grieve by Cariad Lloyd
Guests on Lloyd’s award-winning podcast Griefcast have included those who have experienced the death of a loved one by suicide, those who have lost siblings, children, parents and close friends. Lloyd’s brilliant book draws on excerpts from these podcast interviews, together with her own account of negotiating grief – her father died when she was 15. This is an outward-reaching guide, full of humility and humour. A reading list at the book’s close offers further resources and a “handrail through the grief fog”.
Time Lived, Without Its Flow by Denise Riley
Sixteen months after her son’s sudden death, Riley writes of being “superficially ‘fine’” but “with an unseen crater blown into my head”. Moving in diary-like intervals, Riley brings her poet’s skill and formal ice-cold grace to this tender, philosophical account of “an altered condition of life” – the “stopping of time” that occurs after the death of a loved one.
Late Fragments: Everything I Want to Tell You (About this Magnificent Life) by Kate Gross
Kate Gross was 34 when she was diagnosed with terminal bowel cancer. She died two years later, when her twin boys were just five years old. Gross wrote this luminously beautiful memoir-cum-commonplace book partly as way of articulating her own grief for the things she would not live to see and partly as a legacy and love letter to those she left behind. A clear-eyed and extraordinarily uplifting book.
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!
Not all mourning happens after bereavement
– For some, grief can start years before the death of a loved one
For many people, grief starts not at the point of death, but from the moment a loved one is diagnosed with a life-limiting illness.
Whether it’s the diagnosis of an advanced cancer or a non-malignant condition such as dementia, heart failure or Parkinson’s disease, the psychological and emotional process of grief can begin many months or even years before the person dies. This experience of mourning a future loss is known as anticipatory grief.
While not experienced by everyone, anticipatory grief is a common part of the grieving process and can include a range of conflicting, often difficult thoughts and emotions. For example, as well as feelings of loss, some people can experience guilt from wanting their loved one to be free of pain, or imagining what life will be like after they die.
Difficult to define, distressing to experience
Anticipatory grief has proved challenging to define. A systematic review of research studies on anticipatory grief identified over 30 different descriptions of pre-death grief. This lack of consensus has limited research progress, because there’s no shared understanding of how to identify anticipatory grief.
Therese Rando, a prominent theorist, has proposed that anticipatory grief can help prepare for death, contributing to a more positive grieving experience post-bereavement. Rando also suggests that pre-death mourning can aid with adjustment to the loss of a loved one and reduce the risk of “complicated grief”, a term that describes persistent and debilitating emotional distress.
But pre-death mourning doesn’t necessarily mean grief will be easier to work through once a loved one has died. Other research evidence shows that it’s possible to experience severe anticipatory grief yet remain unprepared for death.
Carers should seek support
Carers of people with life-limiting illnesses may notice distressing changes in the health of their loved ones. Witnessing close-up someone’s deterioration and decline in independence, memory or ability to perform routine daily tasks, such as personal care, is a painful experience.
It is essential, then, for carers to acknowledge difficult emotions and seek support from those around them – especially because caring for a loved one at the end of their life can be an isolating time.
Where possible, it can also be beneficial for carers to offer their loved one opportunities to reflect on significant life events, attend to unfinished business, and to discuss preferences for funeral arrangements. For some, this may involve supporting loved ones to reconnect with friends and family, helping them to put legal or financial affairs in order, talking about how the illness is affecting them, or making an advance care plan.
Talking is key
Living with altered family dynamics, multiple losses, transition and uncertainty can be distressing for all family members. It may be difficult to manage the emotional strain of knowing death is unavoidable, to make sense of the situation, and to talk about dying.
However, talking is key in preparing for an impending death. Organisations who offer specialist palliative care have information and trained professionals to help with difficult conversations, including talking to children about death and dying.
Navigating anticipatory grief can involve self-compassion for both the patient and carer. This includes acknowledging difficult emotions and treating oneself with kindness. Open communication with the person nearing the end of their life can foster emotional connection and help address their concerns, alongside support from the wider circle of family and friends.
Extending empathy and understanding to those nearing death – and those grieving their impending loss – will help contribute to a compassionate community that supports those experiencing death, dying and bereavement.
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!
Is It Okay to ‘Schedule’ Your Grief?
— Grief is a unique and personal experience. Everyone copes with it differently, and that’s okay.
In her book The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion writes, “grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it”.
We’re all struck by grief at some point, but knowing this doesn’t quite prepare us to deal with it when it does.
Grief is a natural and psychological response to loss, often involving a range of emotions such as sadness, anger, guilt, and confusion. It’s a deeply personal experience that can manifest differently for everyone, and affects each of us different ways.
It’s important to allow oneself to feel and process grief in their own way.
For instance, the idea of ‘scheduling your grief’ might sound like taking an extremely clinical approach to an emotional situation, but for some, it may be the most effective way to cope with their loss.
‘There Is No Blueprint to Grieving the Right Way’
Grief is often associated with the demise of a loved one, but it can also arise from other significant life changes or losses like significant life changes such as loss of a job or life-altering events.
It’s a complex process that involves emotional, physical, cognitive, and behavioural reactions.
Grief doesn’t follow a timetable. It is a non-linear journey with highs and lows, twists and turns. It can be triggered by different factors, such as anniversaries, memories, or unexpected situations, which can catch people off guard.
While grief doesn’t follow a strict schedule, establishing a routine or schedule can help in managing its intensity and impact on daily life.
This can include setting aside time for activities that facilitate healing and coping.
For instance, in the sixth episode of the US TV show, Succession’s fourth season, you may have caught Tom Wambsgans telling his wife Shiv, “You’re scheduling your grief,” after the demise of her father Logan Roy, when she could not sob in front of others and was crying separately.
‘Processing Grief While Carrying on With Everyday Life Can be Tricky’
Due to everyday hustle and competition, there are times when we don’t get to process our grief properly.
The question that then arises is, can we schedule our grief to a more convenient time when we can consciously engage with the process?
Scheduling grief isn’t the same as avoiding grief.
“In my therapy practice,I have seen people who try to suppress or delay their grief but it always tends to resurface in unexpected ways(and sometimes when they least expect it),” says Gurgaon-based Psychotherapist Shaurya Gahlawa.
Scheduling grief, on the other hand, involves allocating time each day to focus on grieving, allowing oneself to fully feel emotions without distractions.
So, if anything, this approach can help individuals manage their grief in a structured way while still allowing space for healing and growth.
There Are Some Pitfalls to Scheduling Grief
The scheduling of grief may appear counterintuitive and possibly detrimental. It might even seem like attempting to restrict grief to specific time frames disregards the spontaneous and unpredictable nature of the grieving process.
Moreover, trying to schedule grief can establish unrealistic expectations and pressure on individuals who are already having a hard time grieving.
It might unintentionally convey the message that there is a ‘correct’ or ‘acceptable’ timeline for grieving, which can result in feelings of guilt, shame, or inadequacy if one does not adhere to it.
This can be particularly harmful in a society that frequently expects people to ‘move on’ or ‘get over’ their grief within a certain timeframe.
“Attempting to schedule grief can sometimes be counterproductive and may lead to emotional distress because grief follows its own timeline and varies greatly from person to person. Some people may experience intense emotions immediately following a loss, while others may have delayed or prolonged processes,” says Gahlawa.
While it may seem structured, it can be a helpful strategy for some individuals who find it challenging to manage their emotions throughout the day.
How to Schedule Your Grief Effectively
By setting aside designated times to focus on grief, individuals can create a balance between addressing their emotions and engaging in daily activities.
However, it’s a tricky line to tow, so here are some things to keep in mind while scheduling your grief.
- Cut yourself some slack
Flexibility and self-compassion are key, as everyone’s grieving process is unique. Attempting to rigidly schedule grief can sometimes suppress or delay the natural grieving process.
So, according to Gahlawa, its essential to recognise that grief may require flexibility and adaptation based on one’s emotional needs.
It’s important to be patient and compassionate with oneself during this process, as it can take time and may involve ups and downs.
- Make room for unexpected emotions
While some people may find it helpful to set aside specific times to process their feelings of grief, it’s important to acknowledge that emotions can arise unexpectedly and may require attention at any moment.
- Scheduling may not be for you
According to Mumbai based psychologist Sophie D’Souza, Scheduling may not be the best way to process grief for everyone.
“Rather than scheduling grief, for some people, it may be more beneficial to make room for it in our lives. This means allowing ourselves to feel and express our emotions as they occur, without any judgment or the pressure to conform to a predetermined timeline.”
“This includes practicing self-compassion and being patient with ourselves as we navigate the complexities of loss,” she adds.
- Seek professional help
Although everyone experiences and processes grief differently, it can help to do it under the guidance of a professional.
“Our responsibility as mental health professionals is to provide individuals with a secure and unbiased environment where they can explore their feelings, deal with their loss, and develop coping mechanisms during their time of bereavement.”
— Sophie D’Souza, Psychologist
“We help our clients understand that grief is a natural reaction to loss and that there is no right or wrong way to grieve. Rather than trying to manage or schedule grief, I encourage my clients to embrace their emotions.” She adds.
Apart from seeking professional help, don’t be hesitant to lean on loved ones for support.
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!
My pets have stolen my heart again and again.
— I know I’m not alone.
Our relationships with animals can be as strong as those we have with humans, and far less complicated
By Marlene Cimons
The most searing memory of my childhood was the day my mother finally agreed to get us a puppy, only to change her mind several hours later. She decided it would be too much work. Growing up, all I ever wanted was a dog or a cat. All I ever got was a turtle, countless goldfish and two parakeets.
Not surprisingly, the first thing I did after leaving home was get a kitten, a half-Siamese who lived to nearly 20, then a Burmese who made it to 17. When my kids were old enough — 10 and 13 — we got a chocolate lab puppy, as much for me as for them. The kids grew up and left, but Hershey stayed. She was my first dog and — with no husband or partner — my best friend.
The years brought a half-dozen more cats and two more dogs, Watson, a black lab then age 6 months, and Raylan, a yellow shepherd mix, who, at 4 years old, arrived with a BB pellet in his leg and a clear case of post-traumatic stress. With patience and love, Ray morphed from a fearful defensive stray into a devoted and trusting companion.
Today I live with Watson, now 10, the king of fetch, a mama’s boy who follows me everywhere; Chloe, 15, a long-haired part-Maine Coon cat, who loves dogs more than other cats; and Zachy, 10, a gray and black tabby obsessed with food — and my socks. All are rescues.
It was predictable after my pet-deprived youth that I would have animals. What surprised me was the intensity of my feelings for them, and how much my relationship with them would come to define my life.
I was paralyzed with grief and guilt (did I do the right thing?) when Hershey, at 13, was diagnosed with an advanced untreatable cancer and I had to let her go. Similarly, I fell apart after Raylan, then 12, and two of the cats, Max, almost 18, and Leo, 15, also developed cancer, and — in a recent short time span — were gone. Today I feel intermittent anxiety about Watson, Chloe and Zachy, the scientific term being anticipatory grief.
Social media is rife with personal stories of the animal/human bond, especially how difficult it can be to say goodbye. Our relationships with our pets often are as strong as and sometimes stronger than, those we have with our humans, and far less complicated. This may explain our deep connection with them.
“Often, pets are our first or even only chosen family when we leave childhood homes, when we live alone, when our children leave, when we go through breakups,” says Marjie Alonso, former executive director of the International Association of Animal Behavior Consultants and the IAABC Foundation. “Our pets provide a steady, stable presence in a way humans do not.”
Researchers sometimes use attachment theory to describe this bonded relationship between humans and their pets, which holds that humans are born with an innate need to bond with a caregiver, usually their mother. “For many pet owners, the attachment relationships we develop are as emotionally close and similar in intensity as a human attachment,” says Michael Meehan, a senior lecturer in veterinary science at Massey University in New Zealand. “Our pets also display the same attachment behavior toward us.”
Sandra McCune, visiting professor in human-animal interaction in the schools of psychology and life sciences at the University of Lincoln in England, agrees. “It may be that companion animals have hijacked our innate desire to form attachments,” she says. “They depend on us like a child that never grows up.”
My companion animals make up the rhythm of my days — and nights. It’s not just the walk/runs with Watson, or his endless preoccupation with tennis balls, or ensuring Chloe gets her medicines on time, and that Zachy has the special food he needs to prevent urinary blockages.
It’s also those exquisitely sweet moments: Watson, warm against my back while I sleep, and Chloe, who starts on my stomach, then moves into the crook of my arm when I shift. Zachy, still dog-wary, stays downstairs overnight, but waits at the bottom of the steps and demands breakfast as soon as he hears us stir.
“Pets tend to be always the same, even on good and bad days, reliably who they are and reliably ours in our relationship with them,” Alonso says. “Their own needs and wants are fixed around food, enrichment and care, focusing on us, rather than ‘Is my promotion going to come through?’ ‘You forgot our anniversary,’ or, ‘What do you want for dinner?’”
Emily Bray, assistant professor of human-animal interaction in the University of Arizona College of Veterinary Medicine, agrees. “When they are tuned into us, you have their full attention. They are not texting on their phones,” she says.
My children have their own lives now — and their own cats — and make their own decisions. But pets need us to make choices for them, even when it isn’t easy. “Pet owners have to decide when the time comes for euthanasia, which often complicates grief and doesn’t often exist in relation to human death,” says Meehan, also a pet grief counselor. “Unlike human death, there are no traditional rituals or protocols in place to memorialize a pet.”
McCune calls anticipatory grief a normal response to the prospect of loss. “It’s part of the love you have for them,” she says. “Enjoy them while you have them, make and keep memories for when they go. There are just some very special dogs and cats, the ones that steal your heart, that you constantly involve in your life, and that you change your life for.”
That has been true for me and, as it turned out, for my parents, too. Years after my brothers and I moved out, my sister-in-law gifted my parents, then in their 70s, with their first dog, a cocker spaniel puppy.
Too much work? Maybe. But they were too smitten to care.
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!
My dad’s funeral in the Philippines showed me it’s OK to party the pain away
— When my father died suddenly of a heart attack, I was thrust into an unfamiliar world of grieving
by Jim Agapito
After his father’s sudden death while on vacation in the Philippines, Jim Agapito rushed to his funeral. But when he arrived from Canada, he was thrown into an unfamiliar world where his sombre understanding of mourning was replaced by superstition and festivities.
It took three days to get to my dad’s funeral in the Philippines because of a chaotic string of flights and cancellations: Winnipeg to Vancouver, Vancouver to Tokyo and Tokyo to Manila. When I landed, it took another four-hour drive to my mom’s home in a small, rural area called Jaen, Nueva Ecija.
I was tired and devastated. When I saw the coffin, all I wanted to do was burst into tears. But I couldn’t.
Crying on the coffin is bad luck, I heard in my mind. It’s what I had been told again and again by my Filipino family, who were all intent on observing Filipino customs and superstitions for my dad’s journey from the living to the afterlife
Imagine that. You rush halfway around the world to grieve your father’s death but don’t cry on the coffin because it could curse both of you.
I thought, Rest his soul, Dad is already dead. Who would be getting the bad luck?
I felt torn standing before his coffin, surrounded by family and friends who seemed to be keeping it together. On the inside, I was a wreck, and I just wanted to grieve for my father the only way I knew how. I wanted to cry. I wanted to be sad. I wanted to be alone with my mom and my brother.
But in the Philippines, there’s an unwritten but important rule: No one grieves alone, and it’s the family’s duty to create a happy atmosphere for grieving loved ones. Even if that means karaoke.
Fulfilling my father’s dream
This push and pull of how to grieve was a shock because it had been 34 years since I’d been to the Philippines. I was born in Canada and visited my parents’ homeland only once when I was nine.
After they retired, my parents split their time each year between the Philippines and Winnipeg. Dad was in the Philippines for Christmas when he suddenly died of a heart attack.
It was my dad’s wish that my older brother and I would explore this country he loved so much. And there I was, fulfilling his dream under the worst circumstances imaginable.
I’ve been exploring my Filipino culture through a podcast I host called Recovering Filipino. I delve into everything from why we as a community love basketball so much to what’s the obsession with sweet spaghetti.
But all of that exploration and learning didn’t quite prepare me for this deep dive into Filipino customs surrounding death.
A different way of grieving
Funeral parlours are expensive in the Philippines and there is no refrigeration for the body.
Instead, my dad’s coffin was placed in the living room of my family’s home. A home that consisted of my entire extended family — Lola (grandma,) three aunts, three uncles, five cousins and their children.
The house is big, but it’s also in a rural environment and a farm. As a city-slicker living in Winnipeg, It wasn’t like any of the Manitoban farms I went to on school trips in grade school. Our family home in the Philippines was an open door. It felt like every cat and dog in the neighbourhood roamed in the house, and goats and chickens roamed the yard. My family had to rearrange their living space based on burial tradition and superstition to accommodate the funeral. People argued about the proper procedures for mourning and how the donation box should be presented (one aunt said it has to be covered in a certain way or it’s bad luck).
When my extended family gave their condolences and tried to talk to me, it would go in one ear and out the other. It felt like there were too many people surrounding me, and there was an expectation to entertain the guests who came for the funeral. It was a nightmare.
Dad’s funeral also coincided with Christmas. Christmas to Filipinos is like the Super Bowl of holidays. It’s the absolute biggest event of the year. Everyone is celebrating.
I was unprepared for this highly superstitious, party-the-pain-away take on mourning.
After the funeral service, we had a party to celebrate my dad’s life. Filipinos don’t believe the family should be alone and sad; it’s the job of the guests to make sure the family will be OK.
The party atmosphere was hard for me to stomach. I felt guilty for having fun after my dad died. I thought about locking myself in a room and just crying. In fact, I did try doing that at first but it’s something my family wouldn’t let me do.
Instead, they took me to shopping malls, public markets and to eat all the sugar and fried chicken my body could inhale. There was dancing, there was karaoke singing, and they even took me to ride ATVs and hold snakes at an agriculture and off-road park.
Initially, it was uncomfortable and strange to mourn like this, but I soon realized that being surrounded by family in this way actually made the initial grieving process easier.
Even the dead aren’t left alone.
Filipinos believe the body must have company so that the person can go to heaven peacefully. They believe mourners must stay with the body for at least three days so the person’s soul knows they’re dead but they have family to support them on their journey to the afterlife. It’s called the Lamay or wake.
Although many people I met in the Philippines for the funeral were strangers to me, they showed me that my dad always made people feel like they were not alone.
“You’re probably unaware, but your dad was why I could attend college,” one of my cousins told me. He helped pay for that cousin’s tuition for several years.
I heard so many stories like this.
Dad’s body wasn’t cremated with the casket. Initially, this made me angry. It felt like he was being cheated somehow. But then my mom told me, “We didn’t burn the coffin so it could be donated to a family. People here are poor. It’s something your dad would have wanted.”
A different type of loss
I see now that my dad was a guy who loved living life. He liked to have a good time, so celebrating his life with laughter, singing and dancing made sense.
But how do I reconcile that with my understanding of mourning?
Back home in Canada, I often think about the time with my family in the Philippines. They helped me get through a lot of difficult times when the crushing weight of my dad’s death left me paralyzed and speechless. They taught me it’s OK to let loose and have fun.
It’s been hard being back in Canada. I feel so alone. I don’t have the warm and fuzzy security blanket of the family to grab me when I feel sad. But my mom reminds me that all of them, including her, are just a video message away.
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!
Grieving the death of a pet
— Here’s how to help kids cope, according to experts
For many kids, the death of a pet is their first experience with grief. Here’s how to help them get through it, according to experts.
Many parents aren’t sure how to talk about the death of a pet with their kids. Children often have not experienced death and loss before, and many do not have an understanding of permanency yet. Thankfully, there are some experts in pet loss — and a slew of helpful books — that can help families cope with the death of a beloved pet.
As a veterinarian and mom of four, Dr. Stephanie Nelson has had a lot of experience with losing pets — and with how to talk to kids about it. Her kids, who range in age from 2 to 11 years, are used to having several dogs at a time, and many of those dogs joined their family as adults. “My kids have experienced losing many pets. My kids very much understand that dogs don’t live forever, and we are very open in discussion about the fact that they will see all of their pets die at some point,” says Nelson.
While a pet’s death will always be painful, there are some strategies and tips that can help children navigate their feelings. Here, Nelson and others share how to help kids cope with the loss of a pet, including how to talk about their grief and what to do to help them work through those painful and confusing feelings.
Whether you’re preparing kids to say goodbye to a beloved pet or sharing an unexpected loss, there are a few things to keep in mind as you explain the situation.
Be honest about what’s happening
Some of the language adults use to soften the blow of pet death can be confusing for kids, says Cōlleen O’Brien, a licensed social worker and the founder of BLUE dog Counseling. Phrases like “put to sleep” or “cross the rainbow bridge” make sense to adults because we are used to hearing them. To kids, those phrases are confusing and often scary, says O’Brien.
“Start with fewer details. You can always work up from there based on their questions. Young people are great investigative reporters.”
— Cōlleen O’Brien, licensed social worker
“We say they died or they will die, and that means that they won’t ever be awake or their body won’t be working. And they won’t be here with us,” she offers instead. She says to keep it as simple as possible. “Start with fewer details. You can always work up from there based on their questions,” she adds. “Young people are great investigative reporters.”
Help kids understand the process
Jana DeCristofaro, the community response program coordinator at The Dougy Center: The National Grief Center for Children and Families, says that pet euthanasia in particular may be hard for children to understand. “It’s different than when we talk to kids about a human in our life dying. As adults, you’re often making a decision in collaboration with a vet to help end a pet’s life, and we don’t really do that with humans yet.”
There’s a few simple scripts DeCristofaro says are helpful for parents to use:
- “When our pet can’t get better and is suffering, we need to help end their suffering.”
- “The doctor will give Franklin a medicine, just for animals, and that medicine will let them die peacefully and painlessly.”
DeCristofaro also recommends The Dougy Center’s guide to helping children cope with pet death, created in conjunction with Debra Lee, the veterinary wellbeing director at the DoveLewis Emergency Animal Hospital.
Offer reassurance
Letting children know that euthanasia is a choice due to suffering helps them process the deliberate act of ending a pet’s life. Clarifying that the medication is only for animals can ease fears. It’s important to reiterate that the pet will not feel anything when they pass away.
Helping kids cope with the death of a pet
While some children experience the loss of a human loved one devastatingly early in life, for most children, a pet’s death is their first experience with grief and loss. The skills they use to navigate the loss of the family dog are part of a foundation that will help them handle other losses throughout their lifetime — think of it as a chance to add to their emotional toolkit.
Viewing pet death as a form of grief is actually a relatively new way to look at it, says O’Brien. “Pet loss only started to be acknowledged in the 80s,” she says. “They were going like, ‘Hey, folks, we’ve missed lots of forms of grief.’” The death of a pet can affect kids — and grown-ups — in the same way that losing a human family member can, so it is important to acknowledge how big this may feel to your kids. Here are some expert suggestions to help them work through it.
1. Make room for complex emotions
It’s important to recognize that kids process grief differently at various ages, says O’Brien. “The question I get a lot is, ‘My little one is totally upset, and then the next minute they’re playing with their dolls. Is there something wrong with them that they’re not registering this properly?’” That compartmentalizing of grief is actually very common for young kids, she says. They may grieve for short periods of time and then appear unfazed.
For older kids, tweens and beyond, parents may see more classic signs of grief. “They’re conscious enough to know death is permanent,” says O’Brien, “but they haven’t had a lot of experience with permanency, so they’re grappling with that.” She says tweens and older kids are the age group that often becomes very quiet or even explosively angry at times while grieving.
2. Let kids take the lead
When kids are dealing with grief and loss, all the experts say it’s better to let them take the lead on processing their feelings. Offer basic information and answer follow-up questions. “As a parent you’ve got your kids in front of you, and your biggest priority is their well-being,” says DeCristofaro. “Our biggest instinct is to protect our kids from pain.” That instinct, though, can also prevent them from getting to say goodbye and feel what it means to grieve. If your pet’s death is not sudden and there’s a chance to say goodbye, offer it to your kids. If they say no, do not push.
“I think that it is good to have rituals with kids when they lose a pet. We scatter some of the ashes in that dog’s favorite place.”
— Dr. Stephanie Nelson, veterinarian
3. Create a goodbye ritual to help ease the pain
When one of their dogs is showing signs of aging or a terminal illness, Nelson says they use truthful language to explain what is happening. If they know when the death will happen, they prepare the kids and follow the same rituals each time.
“We spoil the dog beforehand. Every one of our dogs gets a whole Happy Meal that the kids get to feed to them,” she says. They let the kids say goodbye, but do not let them witness euthanasia. The family also keeps photos of beloved dogs on shelves in their house. The kids often stop by to look at them and share a memory or two, which Nelson thinks is helpful for them. “I think that it is good to have rituals with kids when they lose a pet. We scatter some of the ashes in that dog’s favorite place,” she says.
4. Consider censoring certain parts of your pet’s death
Some kids may ask if they can see the pet be euthanized or see them after they die. “Most people do not bring younger kids to a euthanasia and instead choose to say goodbye at home,” says Nelson of young children. Some tweens and teens do ask to come along, and she advises being honest about what they will see. “Some children do not want the last visual of their pet being after it has passed away; it is often easier on them to remember only the pet alive and at home,” she says.
As for viewing ashes or other remains, that is another decision to let the child make once you’ve provided them with all the information. Explain that their pet will not look like they remember — ashes will look like a small pile of bone shards and dust, and a deceased intact pet will be cold and stiff. O’Brien says it is better to wait until the child asks, rather than to offer.
5. Practice bibliotherapy
All of the experts love bibliotherapy, or the art of using books to process emotions. They recommend the following books to help kids deal with the death of a pet:
- “Something Very Sad Happened” by Bonnie Zucker
- “Longfellow And The Deep Hidden Woods” by Richard Wagner
- “Alfie and the Birthday Surprise” by Shirley Hughes
- “Cat Heaven” by Cynthia Ryland
- “The Tenth Good Thing About Barney” by Judith Viorst
- “When a Pet Dies” by Fred Rogers
- “Goodbye Mousie” by Robie H. Harris
- “The Invisible Leash” by Patrice Karst
Nelson adds that for older kids and teens, any book on grief is helpful, even if it’s not pet-specific — kids are able to make those mental connections as they age.
When to get a new pet after a loss
As to when to get a new pet? That’s another great place to let children lead, though it is important to make sure the whole family is on board with adding another animal. Some families find getting a new pet quickly helps kids shift their focus from the loss, while others need more time to feel ready. Both options are normal and acceptable.
Many kids worry their deceased pet will resent a new pet. “We ask, ‘What would your pet think if you gave another pet a loving home and cared for them?’” says O’Brien. “Most kids say, ‘Well, they would want me to do that.’”
The bottom line
Losing a pet is one of the most difficult experiences a family can go through. But, with the right preparation and openness to discuss big feelings, it can also be a foundational moment in a child’s life where they learn how to navigate grief and loss. As you navigate a loss, don’t forget to talk to your veterinarian, too. Many are experienced in helping families navigate pet death and can be a great source of support.
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