Who is Teaching Who?

Being a grandparent is fun, but I am finding it also carries a huge responsibility. I am so fortunate to be able to “care, teach, listen, and lead” these little people. I average about six to ten hours per week in the company of five-year-old twins (a girl and boy) and their three-year-old brother. What a joy and an exhaustion at the same time.

Recently, framed around discussions of their new clothes and the end-of-the-day conversation of  why I “had to” leave, we talked about friendships and death. I am learning that while most of our time together is play which helps them grow physically, the “deep” conversations help them grow emotionally.

Right in the middle of biting-down on a cheeseburger Twin #2 shared, “Craig told me he will not be my best friend, but that’s okay because Camden said she would be.” As I looked at her beautiful blue eyes, I thought about how many times in her life she will think about friendships and how she will handle them. I chose not to engage too deeply in this one and we spent more time talking about Camden than Craig.

Earlier, in the car, the conversation was with Twin #1, but with the two others listening intently. I was talking about my father, and he reeled-off three rapid-fire questions, “Is he dead? Are his eyes closed? and Will you never see him again?” This is pretty heavy stuff for a short car ride.

I said, in order, “Yes, my dad, your great granddad, died twelve years ago, his eyes are closed, and I see him every day when I think or dream about him.” His follow-up question was, “So, I will never see him?” My response was “I can show each of you a picture of him in his Army uniform, and then you will see him.” 

They wanted to see the picture but were curious about what an Army uniform was. I gave them too much information on that one because it led to inquiries about what was war and if I ever was in a war. General guidance for answering questions from young children suggests we answer only what was asked.

My daughter, the kids’ mom, has to deal with hundreds of questions each week and I deal with maybe a several dozen. I love the questions! Even when they are difficult, I realize my grandchildren are small human sponges looking to learn from us taller people. I’m not a psychologist but I sense a great importance in answering the questions.  

I have studied communicating about death to children and the importance of getting that right. 

We should answer questions consistent with their current ability to understand. Be honest and don’t use euphemisms which might mislead. I remember a true story of a dad who told his young son that his Grandma had passed away. Later in a conversation with a friend, his son said, “my grandma did not die, she just passed out.” The boy misunderstood and, no doubt, looked forward to her waking up. 

May you be at peace in your interactions with everyone, especially precious children!