Nana isn't being replacedJun 19 '00 Write an essay on this topic.When my mother passed away of cancer four days after Christmas, I prepared myself for a long road of personal grief and recovery, but my main concern was for how my two daughters, ages 8 and 6 at the time. They had both been devoted to their Nana, who was a loving grandmother and our first choice for babysitting before her illness. Over the course of a year our girls had watched their once vibrant and youthful Nana become crippled and disfigured by a horrible form of this disease, multiple myeloma. Having lost my own grandmother to cancer when I was 5, I was aware of how the last impressions of a sick and dying person can replace the happy memories of healthier times, so my husband and I had discussed whether we should allow the children to visit my mother as her health and her mental capacity started to dim. We decided that time with their grandmother was too vital to deny them, but we carefully prepared them before each visit, reminding them that Nana's cancer was changing the way she looked. We kept lots of pictures of her before the cancer around so they could remember what she looked like when she was able to sing to them and dance with them. Their last visit with her was in the hospital on Christmas day. Fortunately, she was lucid enough to watch them open their presents and tell them how much she loved them. On the way home we talked about past family Christmas celebrations, but didn't mention the fact that she was obviously nearing the end, not wanting to associate the tragedy with the holiday so closely. When we learned of her death a few days later, we openly cried in front of our girls. We had discussed the process of cancer and the fact that my mother would die with both girls on several occasions during her illness, each time offering just a little bit of information and allowing them to digest it and ask questions, but now it was real and final. We sat down with them and explained that Nana's pain was over, and, in accordance with our beliefs, that she was in Heaven with Jesus and watching over all of us. Having read up on children and grief, I was prepared for their rather casual acceptance of this and didn't press them for an 'appropriate' response, letting them choose the time to express themselves but letting them know it was perfectly fine to talk about it whenever they felt like it. Our youngest daughter is the more expressive, so it was no surprise when she was the first to bring the matter up. She told us she was sad and missed Nana. Our oldest daughter, however, waited for a week to pass before she chose to express her own grief, and it came in the form of art. We carefully kept all of her drawings of Nana in Heaven and dancing in the stars. Both girls were soon asking questions, which we did our best to answer frankly, but both of them chose to focus on the good memories. However, like adults, I've learned by watching them that grieving isn't a step-by-step process. They seem to reach a period of closure, then a month or so later return to a period of sadness and uncertainty. My husband and I have done our best to let them know that that's perfectly normal and they can come to us at any time to talk about their feelings and questions. The openness has helped, and so far there have been no regression behaviors associated with repression of grief and anxiety. We also encourage them to talk to their Nana when they want to, since we believe that even though they can't hear her, she can hear them and her spirit remains with us. Now we are facing a new complexity to the issue. Although it has been less than a year, my father has met a wonderful woman and plans to remarry. His fiancee is kind, considerate, and good with children (she is an elementary school teacher), so there is no worry that they won't get along, but we're watching carefully to see how they react to seeing someone new with Papa. Again, our key to this issue will be openness. We are allowing our girls to set the terms of their relationship to my father's fiancee rather than telling them such things as what to call her (my oldest has opted for a first name basis, while my youngest chose right off the bat to call her Nana). We're not sure what the future will bring as we all continue through this first year without my mother, but we'll be sure to give as much room to each individual in the family for their own pace of grief as is possible.  |
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