Addressing the 'Elephant in the Room'

I have been humbled by sweet comments of support, and those willing to share their questions and experiences on grieving.  This is just one of the first posts directed to those of you who are trying to help a grieving child.  Everyone mourns differently.  I am hoping that by sharing lots of different approaches and experiences, it might spark some ideas or possible solutions to the questions and answers you are seeking.

                A few months ago my thoughts wandered back to memories and experiences of living with Ashlee as it has so many times.  I thought of the crying babies, the endless tears, the questions, and the heart flickering pains. I also thought of the happiness and the good times.  The moments of laughter where kids were being kids, and saying the adorable and hilarious little things they say.  Singing “We All Live in a Yellow Submarine”, at the top of their lungs, all versus might I add, every morning and night for a month.  Don’t know if they know all the words to it anymore, but I sure could pop out a performance of it.  Moments of watching and re-watching tangled until we all could mouth the words to every song and scene. That summer had changed all of us, through the tears of joy from laughing too hard, to the tears of sorrow.  I guess you could say it was the refiner’s fire that molded us into the people we are today.

                This time as I thought back , I thought specifically about Bostyn.  Once so carefree and full of excitement in the world, now full of fear and sadness.  Excited about life and adventurous, now not wanting to venture ten feet from the safety of her family.  Once full of confidence and assurity, now darting eyes and questioning her beauty and self worth. Where had that little twinkle in her eyes gone, or that extra hop in her step? Bostyn was the one on my mind.  She was the reason for the phone call.  My heart told me something was wrong, and I prayed that I would know the right thing to say and do.  Ashlee and I had spoken hours before this call, and she had reassured me of what I felt I already knew, sweet little Bostyn needed help.

                The phone rang and feelings of inadequacy weighed heavy on my mind.  How was I going to help this little girl see her worth?  How was I going to reassure her that life would be good and that these little knocks she is experiencing, only will make her stronger? How was I going to address the subject of talking about losing her father and the feelings she is harboring there?

                The ringing stopped.  Ashlee answered and excitedly handed the phone over, and Bostyn’s sweet voice came on through the other side.  Bostyn didn’t sound like herself.  I asked her multiple questions regarding school, friends, and life in general.  She told me she didn’t really like school.  She felt like she was having a hard time finding a good group of friends that she felt safe, loved, and included with.  She told me that she wanted to be home schooled because that would allow her to stay with her mom all day long.  I listened and offered words of encouragement.  I told her that as hard as school and friends can be at times, they are both good things.  That maybe she is supposed to go to school so that she can be a friend to someone else feeling the same way she is.  I knew most of her fears and heart break came from the tragedy she had experienced at such a young age.  My mind quickened as I tried to think of possible ways to talk about the ‘elephant in the room’, so to speak.  Without a thought to the direction I was going in I said to Bostyn, “Hey want to hear something cool?  Have you ever thought about how much we have in common?  Like we both have twins in our family, we have amazing moms, and both of our Dad’s are in heaven?” There we have it, the bomb was dropped. Bostyn’s voice for the first time lit up as she responded to my question.  I then continued to address the issue by talking about her Father Emmett’s funeral, asking her if she remembers it like I remember my Dad’s.  She mentioned things that I had never thought a young child would pick up on.  She was so aware of the feeling in the room, the emotions felt by all around her, the many hugs she received, and that her dad was gone.  I asked her if she remembered about visiting me and my family in the Boise hospital during my dad’s last few hours.  I will never forget what she said in response to this question.  She said, “Tiff I remember coming and giving you a hug and not wanting to let go.  I remember you held me for a long time, and I remember feeling sad. It was all so sad. I remember everyone at the hospital was really sad that day, and that Uncle Dave had lots of machines hooked up to him. I remember thinking, why does Uncle Dave have to die too?”  What a profound little thought for such a young girl.  She had experienced so much loss, at such a young age.  We finished our conversation that day by talking about how our family is always going to be there for one another.  We talked about our Dad’s being friends in heaven, and how they are watching over us, and most likely laughing at the silly things we do.  We had gone from two complete polar opposites within the context of our conversation.

We have all in some way been victims to loss, disappointment, and sorrow.  Some of us have been willing to share our feelings, while others of us choose to hide our problems and move on with life the best we can.  Some want to talk about it, share memories, while others cringe at the mention of their lost ones name or memories.  As hard as it may be, and as much as it hurts, I challenge you to talk it out.  It does no good keeping those feelings and emotions inside.  We say people don’t understand, but are we letting them in to understand?

To those struggling to work with their grieving children, it takes time.  Not only does it take time to listen, but it takes time for children to fully process it to the point they are ready to share and talk about the way they are feeling.  Find a way to get down on their level.  Talk about things they love, things that are important to them.  Sometimes we wonder why others around us are not opening up to us, yet we refuse to open up ourselves to them.  When we ask a simple question of what is wrong, we will get a simple answer.  Choose to listen. My mom always said, “Remember, there is a reason God gave us two ears and one mouth.  You need to listen twice as much as you talk.” Their responses might not always be what you want to hear, and that is ok.  Think positive and set little goals for yourself.  If it makes you cry every time you mention their name or speak of them, start slowly. Don’t be discouraged if others lash out in sadness or anger and don’t want to talk about it or listen to what you have to say. Remember, everyone grieves in their own way. Be understanding that they are hurting, but don’t give up on confronting and facing the issue.  I promise you though excruciatingly painful and difficult it might be, it will get easier. 

I can’t stress enough how important it is to open up channels to talk about the person you are grieving over.  Share funny memories.  I tried to share memories with the kids that summer as much as I could.  Bostyn and Baileys’ favorite one was of their dad taking care of them as they were babies.  With two babies there is double the spit up, double the diapers, and double the mess.  Emmett had laid both of them down in front of him one day while I was visiting, and made up his own little jingle about them.  He sang these words to his own melody, “A poopin and a fartin and a pucking and a poopin and a fartin and a pucking.”  As gross and lacking in creativity as it sounded, the girls loved it and thought it was hilarious.  Whatever might bring you joy, find ways to laugh again.  If the children are having a hard time, and struggling to find any semblance of hope in their lives, take a look at how you are living.  We as adults set the tone.  If we are positive, they will learn from our actions.  I promise you that the Lord never gives you anything that you can’t handle.  If you feel you are being tried too much at times in your lives, think about how much faith and love the Lord has in you to put you through your own refiner’s fire and melting pot.  It has made you the person you are today, and you should be proud of yourself. Be proud of who you are, and the challenging fight you have endured to become that person.