Most bereaved parents know that awkward feeling when someone new asks the question, “How did he/she die?”
I have always been a truth teller. I was reared to answer with the correct answer anytime anyone asked me a question. Maybe it was taught to me through an authoritarian style of parenting. Or maybe I was taught this because I was reared to be unfailingly polite.
As a result, when someone asked me, “ How did he die?”or “What happened?”, I would blurt out the answer. A one word answer ( example: accident, cancer, wreck, suicide, overdose) would usually tempt them to press for more details.
It is actually very painful for me to relive the details surrounding my son’s passing. Some are asking out of natural curiosity. Some ask in order to get the tea. Some ask as a rote response.
The question usually comes up because someone new has asked me, “So how many children do you have?”
The truth telling me wanted to answer, “ I have four children.” After that the conversation always went like this:
Them: “ So, how many children do you have?”
Me: “ I have four children.”
Them: “ What do they do/ where do they live?”
Me: “ One son _____.One son______. My daughter ______.”
Them: “ That’s only three; what does the fourth one do?”
Me: “My oldest son passed away four years ago.”
Them: “ What happened?”
Now, at this point, the truth telling part of me felt like I was supposed to answer with the correct answer. Either discipline, politeness, or my attempt to always remember and honor my son by acknowledging him, made me answer with detail.
As many of you have experienced, the answer is painful and it always steers the conversation into being all about the deceased child. Every answer brings another question from them. A simple question, “ How many children do you have?”, turns into a 100% conversation about the deceased child. This conversation completely drains me.
Early in my bereavement, all I could think about all day, every day, was my son. When either of these questions was asked, I wanted/ needed to go into the specifics. Telling my story was necessary for me to process what happened. When most family and friends deserted me after the funeral to go on with their lives, I needed an opportunity to tell my story in order to process it.
If I am being honest, many times I was the one who would blurt out , “ My oldest son passed away recently.” This was usually to give a disclaimer for my sadness, my need for others to treat me gently, or my desire to excuse myself from an obligation or invitation. In our modern society, we no longer wear mourning clothes to signify a period of bereavement, so the only way we can get what we need is to tell others.
Somewhere in my third year of bereavement, I decided that I no longer needed or was obligated to answer these questions as if I had been given a dose of truth serum. If Iwas not in the mood to have a draining conversation with a stranger that I would probably never see again, I now simply say, “ Three”. In my head, I inserted the words, Three Living Children. Many times the conversation headed in another direction.
“ How many children do you have” mostly is asked in the same way as, “ How are you doing?” The appropriate social response is, “ Fine, thank you. And how about yourself?” The other person doesn’t really want to know our back hurts, our gout is acting up, our emotional issues, or any recent losses.
There came a point, where I had told my story enough times and I didn’t want to share it casually any more. Not everyone gets access to my heart. This is actually a sign some healing has taken place.
It is perfectly acceptable and polite to answer, “ What happened?” with:
“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“ It is too painful to talk about.”
“ Let’s talk about something else.”
One mom shared with me, “It was sudden, traumatic, and I don’t want to talk about it.” This is my favorite answer.
As I began to heal, I also decided that when I let the conversation head into the details about my son’s passing, it took away the opportunity to give attention to the lives of my three living children. They all have interesting and pleasant things going in their lives.
This is not about “ forgetting” the child who passed away. It is about protecting your energy and emotions. It is guiding the conversation into a more pleasant direction. We will never forget the child who passed away.
Our beloved child does not need us to reduce their time on earth by telling the details of the painful end to everyone who asks. We can decide who gets the details and who gets a simple, easier response.
We will never forget our child but we need to do some healing in order to live the rest of our lives peacefully. Our healing does not diminish our love for our child in heaven.
Peace and love.
She writes about life, death, grief, and recovery.
- Seven Years - September 16, 2023
- Healing After Child Loss - June 19, 2022
- “You Are So Strong” - March 11, 2022
