Vernors & Fried Cakes-And Children's Grief
Jul 03 '00
......and then there were none.
My brother and I used to take a "long journey" in our red American Flyer wagon, taking turns pulling each other down to our grandparents' fieldstone house on our corner in Detroit. It was a real joy for us - at least 2-3 times a week. We'd sit at the vinyl-covered kitchen table with Grandma and Grandpa, and have an icy bottle of Vernor's Ginger Ale, (Detroit's legacy), and an Awrey's "fried cake", a plain donut. (Awrey's - another Detroit memory). And we'd talk, not about anything, in my 6 year old's memory bank that I remember now. There weren't hugs or kisses, or "I love you's", but we knew. We definitely knew that we were loved. They were that typical Detroit turn of the century family, 2nd generation Irish Catholics. Yep, right off the boat - from County Clare they were!
And we loved them both, with only the love a small grandchild is capable of.....grandma didn't smile much, but grandpa ---- oh, that is what I remember the most. Not a hug, or anything too "sentimental" like that. But that wonderful twinkling Irish smile, and "china blue" eyes, (as my mother said my younger brother inherited).
And then one morning, my dad told us both at breakfast that grandma had a heart attack the night before. He replied that yes, she had died. And all I can remember is a literal blur that week. I remember going to the wake, in their living room, in that same house where we ate fried cakes and drank Vernor's Ginger Ale the week before. They were incredibly sad memories - but all visual. Nothing was said to me, BY ANYONE. No explanations, no comforting, not a word. No memories of this entire funeral experience, of mourning, crying, talking to me, or to my brother ---- none at all.
What I do remember, is coming downstairs that night, after I was in bed; probably around 9 p.m., because I heard an unusual and troubling sound. My father was sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by shoeboxes (which I'd never seen before),of pictures.....pictures of him and his 8 brothers and sisters as children, of his parents as a young married couple, smiling as they held each of their regularly arriving children... And he was holding a pile of pictures of his mother with him - at various ages. They were on his lap in a little pile. And he was sobbing. He didn't look up when I came down, even though he heard me, because our winding stairs creaked loudly. I stood next to him. And I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder, and my tears started to fall too. And he hugged me. And he cried more, almost uncontrollably. I'd never seen my father cry. It wasn't done in our family. Not in most families back then..... And not a word was exchanged.
We cried together for a few minutes, and he showed me some of the pictures, but nothing else was shared. No words. And definitely no addressing or even acknowledging of my loss too - to the little girl who lost her grandma. I knew I needed to let him be alone; and he did say that to me. And I walked back upstairs to bed. I don't know where my mother was that night; probably sleeping. I doubt if she would have been able to be present at this private time with my father. Perhaps she had been earlier that evening - I'll never know. She was pregnant again, so maybe she was exhausted - but these are all ways I have "filled in" the gaps --- which is what a child does, whether accurately or innacurately, when their grief, their mourning, isn't also acknowledged.
However a 5 year old grieves, I know I began the process. And for me, it was a solitary process. It was no different when my grandfather died, just very few memories are even attached to that. Grief, yes. Regret for what wasn't, yes. But little more; that I can remember. And that is the sad result of a child being left to sort out their loved family member's death alone.
I really do believe the mourning process, if unaddressed,perhaps even shared, with a young person, doesn't really ever become OK. It can even become, at its worst, a "we don't talk about that" aspect of one's childhood. And there can be ramifications of that which can last many years. I just read NoniaBidnis' opinion, "Let Them Mourn Now".....and it brought tears again - and some grief that I thought I too had "worked through" in therapy, 30, 35, 40 years after. I suspect I never totally will ----but I can hopefully allow my memories to make me a better mother of 2 adult daughters, and 3 small grandchildren, in the way I deal with death, my own, or others. It definitely is not a closed topic.
Our conversations, especially with my two grandsons, 9 and 11, that I see frequently, and who have always spent many weekend "overnights" with Grammy, are always completely honest. What I've realized is that I'm the one who is more uncomfortable initially, talking about things like death. They ask questions, openly, guilelessly, because their mom and dad have tried to make it OK to discuss, question, feel. About anything. They tell me of their fears, and their joys, and we talk, and laugh, and hug a lot too. They can even say, frequently - "Grandma, I don't EVER want you to die". And I do have to hold back a tear. Do I promise them I won't? When I see my almost 12 year old grandson's eyes fill up, as we're riding in the country birdwatching (his latest passion), and suddenly, he wants assurance from me that I'll be there "til I'm at least 65, grammy!"
What child doesn't have those fears and anxious thoughts sometimes, about their parents and grandparents? If they have a genuine and loving relationship with their grandchildren,no matter how frequently they're able to see them, these feelings are there. They feel free to ask those questions, (and I get to kinda squirm as I answer them, because of course, I don't want to think about my own mortality). But these are things that my grandparents (on either side) never talked about, and I certainly wouldn't have felt free to discuss my questions and feelings and fears about death as a little schoolgirl at Holy Redeemer (site of the movie "The Rosary Murders", for those mystery movie buffs among us). The nuns and priests sure didn't give me an angle on death that was of any comfort~~` the understatement of the year. But again, those were different times, different norms (for Irish Catholics on both sides of my family).
Unlike my little 5 year old mind and heart, full of questions that most often went unanswered, ignored, or 'shushed', about death, and the plethora of other life experiences, my grandsons feel free to talk about anything with me today. The good thing is that they talk about most things openly with their parents, so its never an issue of my discussing something that they haven't also approached with mom and/or dad. But they sometimes have more questions. Especially about their fear of losing me someday.
We don't dwell on it. I just tell them, "hey guys, I'm healthy, I plan to live 100 years, and spoil your children! That's MY plan; but they know I'm not the final arbiter of this death thing. And I take their concerns seriously, and talk with them til they're out of questions. I just couldn't have an authentic relationship with them any other way. My little 4 year old grandaughter still lives back in Detroit, 3 hours away, and my hope and expectation is certainly that as we spend more and more time together, as she gets older, our times will include the same level of authentic communication. She too is a precious little soul, and makes me laugh more than anyone I know. I just don't get to see her enough! (My COMPLAINT FOR THE DAY!)
My commitment is to just always tell them the truth, at the level they can deal with it. I'm telling them the same things their parents are, from the spiritual perspective that we share, and from a place that doesn't engender any needless anxiety or alarm. It is amazing, isn't it, how well children accept truth? Simple life truths....A heckuva lot better than I still do!
I think this is an important role we as parents and grandparents have in their life; to be the truth-tellers. And the memory-sharers. (They LOVE looking at pictures - for hours!). They want to know things. Sometimes heavy-duty topics that WE'RE still uncomfortable with, around the issue of death. But we need, as parents and grandparents to acknowledge that, and see what perhaps we still need to keep processing. I know I will never reach the point where I feel - OK, I've learned enough. I've felt enough. And sometimes that's really tough, as we all know.
All children have feelings of fear of losing their parents and grandparents. Think about your fears when you were young. You were very blessed if you were able to discuss all of those childhood fears, real and genuine, with your parents. I know some parents have different thoughts, for example, on taking a child to a funeral home - for viewing the lifeless body of a departed person they loved dearly. I won't register an opinion on that today, because truthfully, the arguments for both choices have merit. I know my feelings used to vaccilate on that one a lot.
But I do feel, so strongly, that we never successfully bury our grief, no matter what our age. It is there, and it has an effect on our lives, thoughts, perspectives on many things. Heck, we aren't oblivious to any experience that goes on in our families, no matter how young we are. Our feelings about them may get stuffed W-A-Y down - but not successfully buried. One way or the other, the results manifest through our lives, with their concomitant effects, good or bad.
I believe the role of parent/grandparent/guardian - any type of caretaker of childen, is fraught with complicated decisions. This issue of 'how do we handle death' is one of the biggies. Like Susan said, she knew her mother had made the choice she felt was best at the time. And when all is said and done, isn't that what we all try to do each day? Well, at least MOST days.......Or as my oldest daughter says, "If it's not one thing, it's your mother!".
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Epinions.com ID:
fiona32
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Member: Marty Lentz
Location: Michigan
Reviews written: 22
Trusted by: 57 members
About Me:
Former Alcohol-Drug Abuse/Family Therapist, divorced, live in W. Michigan - love grandchildren and Gateway!!
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