Helping a 5 year old deal with death...
December 13, 2010 6:44 PM Subscribe
Any thoughts about talking with young children about death?
My five year old is super bright and thoughtful and she has become a bit obsessed about her own death. I think she actually gets it, and it really scares her terribly. She seems to be becoming increasing preoccupied with it. I feel so sad about it and dont know what to do about it. She seems to young too be having to wrestle with existential issues...I talked to her a little bit about the dalai lama and some various ideas around it... I am sorry to trouble you. I am feeling a good bit of despair watching her suffer and not being able to help her. Of course we give her hugs and love. Frankly, it is unnerving to have someone crying and crying and begging not to die. I can not describe how painful it is to watch your child suffer and not be able to help. I am dreading each day, and feel like a failure for not being able to help her. I am sorry to write this here, I am at my wits end.
My five year old is super bright and thoughtful and she has become a bit obsessed about her own death. I think she actually gets it, and it really scares her terribly. She seems to be becoming increasing preoccupied with it. I feel so sad about it and dont know what to do about it. She seems to young too be having to wrestle with existential issues...I talked to her a little bit about the dalai lama and some various ideas around it... I am sorry to trouble you. I am feeling a good bit of despair watching her suffer and not being able to help her. Of course we give her hugs and love. Frankly, it is unnerving to have someone crying and crying and begging not to die. I can not describe how painful it is to watch your child suffer and not be able to help. I am dreading each day, and feel like a failure for not being able to help her. I am sorry to write this here, I am at my wits end.
I feel so sad about it.... I am feeling a good bit of despair .... it is unnerving .... I can not describe how painful it is .... I am dreading each day....I am at my wits end.
I can't tell you exactly what to tell your daughter, but I can tell you that your distress is having a huge influence on how she processes these very natural, very age-appropriate concerns. The more you stress out, the more she will learn that this is something to be stressed out about, and conversely, the more matter-of-fact and relaxed you are, the more she will be able to relax about things too.
posted by headnsouth at 6:53 PM on December 13, 2010 [4 favorites]
I can't tell you exactly what to tell your daughter, but I can tell you that your distress is having a huge influence on how she processes these very natural, very age-appropriate concerns. The more you stress out, the more she will learn that this is something to be stressed out about, and conversely, the more matter-of-fact and relaxed you are, the more she will be able to relax about things too.
posted by headnsouth at 6:53 PM on December 13, 2010 [4 favorites]
Wait, does you child have a reason to believe that she is going to die soon? You sound like you might be alluding to a terminal disease or something like that.
posted by wayland at 6:57 PM on December 13, 2010
posted by wayland at 6:57 PM on December 13, 2010
At that age, my son was also a bit obsessed about death--mine, not his. It occurred to me after way too many months of grappling with this issue that his real fear had less to do with dying than it had to do with the idea of being permanently and irrevocably lost, which is a genuine and present terror for kids, particularly if they've actually experienced being lost. So instead of tackling the existential issues, I started feeding him strategies for getting found (i.e., by teaching him how to phone his entire extended family, plus the police). I think that helped, but of course I can't be sure.
I also made sure not to turn on the news if he was around. Too much dying there for comfort, all of it couched in oh-no-the-grownups-don't-know-what-to-do terms.
I feel for you, it is distressing when your child worries. Does she ever articulate what it is about death that scares her?
posted by YamwotIam at 7:02 PM on December 13, 2010
I also made sure not to turn on the news if he was around. Too much dying there for comfort, all of it couched in oh-no-the-grownups-don't-know-what-to-do terms.
I feel for you, it is distressing when your child worries. Does she ever articulate what it is about death that scares her?
posted by YamwotIam at 7:02 PM on December 13, 2010
Can you find out what specifically she is afraid of? Is it the possibility of pain? Or of being separated from loved ones? Or just generalized fear of non-existence?
posted by AlsoMike at 7:04 PM on December 13, 2010
posted by AlsoMike at 7:04 PM on December 13, 2010
I read this book to my daughter, when she started to worry about Grandma dying. It might help your daughter understand that she shouldn't die for decades yet, until she's an old wrinkly Grandma whose work here on earth has been done.
Grandma is still around, and my daughter is weirdly understanding about the whole dying thing. But good grief, I cried every time I read the book, and it eventually became a joke between my daughter and I, how she could handle the fact that everyone dies... and I couldn't handle a Grandpa Bear dying.
posted by malibustacey9999 at 7:05 PM on December 13, 2010 [1 favorite]
Grandma is still around, and my daughter is weirdly understanding about the whole dying thing. But good grief, I cried every time I read the book, and it eventually became a joke between my daughter and I, how she could handle the fact that everyone dies... and I couldn't handle a Grandpa Bear dying.
posted by malibustacey9999 at 7:05 PM on December 13, 2010 [1 favorite]
Assuming no terminal issues as mentioned by the poster above me, and heck, maybe even then, the correct answer to this one is "oh sweetie, of course you're not going to die!!". If she is as aware as you say that everyone dies sometime, you can tell her that, yeah ok, when she's really old, like a-hundred-and-tickle. No 5 year old is so bright they would rather hear about the Dalai Lama than that everything is going to be ok.
posted by Iteki at 7:07 PM on December 13, 2010 [2 favorites]
posted by Iteki at 7:07 PM on December 13, 2010 [2 favorites]
In your best cheerful, matter-of-fact, everything's-under-control-duckie! voice, tell her it's a long way off and nothing to worry about now. Then distract her. Play some music and dance, take her outside to feel the sun/rain/wind/snow. It's what we all do, right?
posted by palliser at 7:09 PM on December 13, 2010 [1 favorite]
posted by palliser at 7:09 PM on December 13, 2010 [1 favorite]
Response by poster: Headnsouth, I know what you mean, I swear I do my very best not to convey any anxiety about it whatever, and also I want to listen to it but not make it BIGGER if you know what I mean... I am racked with guilt that somehow I may not be doing it right enough... Which just makes it all worse.
Wayland, no, she has no reason to think she will die soon. She somehow seems to apprehend that though it is not near it is inevitable in a way that you wouldnt think a 5 year old would..
YamwotIam and Alsomike I am going to try to understand better what about it is most concerning. Perhaps there will be something in that I can help with.
Facetious, thanks for your words.
Thank you all for your words. I trust and hope we will all be free some day.
posted by jcworth at 7:11 PM on December 13, 2010
Wayland, no, she has no reason to think she will die soon. She somehow seems to apprehend that though it is not near it is inevitable in a way that you wouldnt think a 5 year old would..
YamwotIam and Alsomike I am going to try to understand better what about it is most concerning. Perhaps there will be something in that I can help with.
Facetious, thanks for your words.
Thank you all for your words. I trust and hope we will all be free some day.
posted by jcworth at 7:11 PM on December 13, 2010
Put on your own oxygen mask first, jcworth. It's like that old plane safety lecture: You will not be able to help your child unless you can function calmly. I say this as someone who had two young children live with a dying grandparent for a time, and who had to explain to them illness, hospice and death. Take a deep breath.
Your child has hit the "OMG, DEATH" wall early, but not inappropriately and it is your job to put aside your own despair at having to watch her go through this and to be with her in her distress.
"Don't worry, be happy" is not going to work with a sensitive, bright child, as you know. Go with it and acknowledge her feelings of fear. Use mirroring, affirming language that conveys the message "Yes, death is a scary thing to think about, and yes feeling scared about the idea of dying is OK" and then reassure her about living--and how important it is to do the wonderful, everyday things of living, like petting the cat and eating meals with her family and running around. Though we must die, we should love living and savor the small, happy moments of our days. Lying and pacifying won't work, but perhaps redirecting will. "You're scared. I know. And here we are, and I'm so glad to be here with you, right now, cuddled up with the cat and with tomorrow's birthday party to look forward to." You know your child best, and can tailor this advice as you see fit.
But be with her. Don't run away from her fear, and don't react in ways that may magnify it. Just be present and loving, and gently redirect her to feelings of safety and protectedness.
posted by MonkeyToes at 7:13 PM on December 13, 2010 [5 favorites]
Your child has hit the "OMG, DEATH" wall early, but not inappropriately and it is your job to put aside your own despair at having to watch her go through this and to be with her in her distress.
"Don't worry, be happy" is not going to work with a sensitive, bright child, as you know. Go with it and acknowledge her feelings of fear. Use mirroring, affirming language that conveys the message "Yes, death is a scary thing to think about, and yes feeling scared about the idea of dying is OK" and then reassure her about living--and how important it is to do the wonderful, everyday things of living, like petting the cat and eating meals with her family and running around. Though we must die, we should love living and savor the small, happy moments of our days. Lying and pacifying won't work, but perhaps redirecting will. "You're scared. I know. And here we are, and I'm so glad to be here with you, right now, cuddled up with the cat and with tomorrow's birthday party to look forward to." You know your child best, and can tailor this advice as you see fit.
But be with her. Don't run away from her fear, and don't react in ways that may magnify it. Just be present and loving, and gently redirect her to feelings of safety and protectedness.
posted by MonkeyToes at 7:13 PM on December 13, 2010 [5 favorites]
Don't try to deny that she will in fact die; just be as matter-of-fact about it as you can be. If you personally fear dying, try to work on that, because she will undoubtedly be at least in part modeling her reaction to the idea on yours.
Personally, I expect dying to be a really interesting experience and I'm quite looking forward to it; but since having that experience will prevent me having any others afterward, I'd much rather do all the other interesting thing first. Perhaps that perspective might be useful to your daughter.
Ways to challenge the idea that death is necessarily scary:
1. It's a perfectly normal part of life for every living thing; there's no way around that, which makes worrying about it completely pointless.
2. Being dead is no scarier than being deeply asleep (don't use this one if you think she might get really scared about falling asleep).
3. She already knows what being dead feels like. It feels exactly like it did for all those billions of years before she first woke up.
You could also try asking her what the scary part about being dead is: why does she think it's going to be a scary thing? And then show her that there is in fact nothing to fear there.
Other possibly useful questions:
1. Do you remember being scared of dying yesterday?
2. Last week?
3. Last month?
And yet you're still here; so what good did all that being scared do you?
And then there's the lovely Gerry O'Driscoll quote from Dark Side of the Moon: "And I am not frightened of dying. Any time will do - I don't mind. Why should I be frightened of dying? There's no reason for it - you've got to go some time."
posted by flabdablet at 7:14 PM on December 13, 2010 [1 favorite]
Personally, I expect dying to be a really interesting experience and I'm quite looking forward to it; but since having that experience will prevent me having any others afterward, I'd much rather do all the other interesting thing first. Perhaps that perspective might be useful to your daughter.
Ways to challenge the idea that death is necessarily scary:
1. It's a perfectly normal part of life for every living thing; there's no way around that, which makes worrying about it completely pointless.
2. Being dead is no scarier than being deeply asleep (don't use this one if you think she might get really scared about falling asleep).
3. She already knows what being dead feels like. It feels exactly like it did for all those billions of years before she first woke up.
You could also try asking her what the scary part about being dead is: why does she think it's going to be a scary thing? And then show her that there is in fact nothing to fear there.
Other possibly useful questions:
1. Do you remember being scared of dying yesterday?
2. Last week?
3. Last month?
And yet you're still here; so what good did all that being scared do you?
And then there's the lovely Gerry O'Driscoll quote from Dark Side of the Moon: "And I am not frightened of dying. Any time will do - I don't mind. Why should I be frightened of dying? There's no reason for it - you've got to go some time."
posted by flabdablet at 7:14 PM on December 13, 2010 [1 favorite]
I am racked with guilt that somehow I may not be doing it right enough...
Yeah, you and every other parent on the planet :-)
You love your daughter, and you will get it right often enough.
posted by flabdablet at 7:17 PM on December 13, 2010 [2 favorites]
Yeah, you and every other parent on the planet :-)
You love your daughter, and you will get it right often enough.
posted by flabdablet at 7:17 PM on December 13, 2010 [2 favorites]
Response by poster: Incidentally, I am deeply moved by the number of responses and thoughtfulness you all are showing. Thank you each very much.
posted by jcworth at 7:22 PM on December 13, 2010 [2 favorites]
posted by jcworth at 7:22 PM on December 13, 2010 [2 favorites]
From my own and friends' experience I think this is commonplace, moreso with smart and sensitive children (oh those lucky dumb, callous children!) With my own child I came to the conclusion that what he most needed was to be reassured and to feel protected so I just kept reiterating that he wasn't going to die (staying firmly away from the long term, or general existential realities of the situation), and that Mom and I would always protect him and take care of him. After initial unsuccessful forays I kept completely off of metaphysical questions of the afterlife (though I have pretty well-developed feelings on the subject based on my religious views); it's confusing and doesn't really help, the question becomes "does that mean I'm not going to die" which gets them right back to the perfectly accurate, utterly terrifying reality that every living thing dies and there's no knowing when or how. 5-year-olds do not need to dwell on this. They need to feel safe.
Death sucks and kids get that and the thing that seemed to work for me was to get discussion with mine into the moment: he's safe, he's here, he's loved and protected. If he wasn't dropping it I'd get into comparison, I'm alive and I'm so much older than you, and I'm not worried at all about dying. And Grandpa is as much older than me than I am older than you! But mostly just happily discounting death as a possibility for which he could possibly need to have a shred of concern.
He pretty much lost interest in the topic, I gather this generally happens.
posted by nanojath at 7:24 PM on December 13, 2010
Death sucks and kids get that and the thing that seemed to work for me was to get discussion with mine into the moment: he's safe, he's here, he's loved and protected. If he wasn't dropping it I'd get into comparison, I'm alive and I'm so much older than you, and I'm not worried at all about dying. And Grandpa is as much older than me than I am older than you! But mostly just happily discounting death as a possibility for which he could possibly need to have a shred of concern.
He pretty much lost interest in the topic, I gather this generally happens.
posted by nanojath at 7:24 PM on December 13, 2010
Talk to her about what it was like before she was born. Was that scary? No, because she wasn't herself yet. Tell her that death is like that, so it's nothing to be scared about. People get sad about other people dying, because they miss them, but you don't need to be sad about your own death.
And then make a big deal about how she probably won't die until she's very old and tired, and will not be sad that life is ending. If she doesn't believe you about that, maybe you can talk about how at the end of a long day when she is really tired, she is happy to go to bed and sleep, and that death is like that for old people who have lived a long life. But don't connect death and sleep too closely if you don't need to - you don't want her to be scared to go to sleep!
posted by lollusc at 7:29 PM on December 13, 2010 [2 favorites]
And then make a big deal about how she probably won't die until she's very old and tired, and will not be sad that life is ending. If she doesn't believe you about that, maybe you can talk about how at the end of a long day when she is really tired, she is happy to go to bed and sleep, and that death is like that for old people who have lived a long life. But don't connect death and sleep too closely if you don't need to - you don't want her to be scared to go to sleep!
posted by lollusc at 7:29 PM on December 13, 2010 [2 favorites]
Children need to understand things at an age appropriate level. At her young age, she is not able to comprehend a lot of existential religious belief, heaven, souls, reincarnations, etc.
At 3/12 yrs old my son was baptized. And in all the talking about it, he somehow got the idea that it meant he was going to die. For a couple of weeks afterwards, he wouldn't sleep by himself, wouldn't go to day care and cried at any separation. When he started 'playing dead' at the sitter's (laying down, holding flowers on his chest and asking kids to sprinkle water on him so he could be alive again- poor babysitter, she was sooo freaked out) we finally caught on.
So I sat down and had a serious talk with him. "Honey, are you worried you are going to die? Well, you aren't. You aren't going to die. Mommy and Daddy aren't going to die. Nobody is ever going to die. Ever." And we let him continue playing dead at home, of course. But he didn't really need to after that.
I completely got away with it. What he needed was reassurance that everything was going to be fine--at a level the he could understand. At 3 1/2 that level was pretty basic. As he grew up, we talked about death in more mature ways. He's got it now. He's 24.
At age 5, she may be a little to savvy for a stunt like mine.
But try talking to her and reassuring her. Point out some things:
*5 year old are healthy, and hardly ever die.
*mom and dad are healthy, and aren't going to die for a long long time.
At this age she does not need a higher level of understanding . She needs to know that she's going to be ok.
posted by SLC Mom at 7:29 PM on December 13, 2010
At 3/12 yrs old my son was baptized. And in all the talking about it, he somehow got the idea that it meant he was going to die. For a couple of weeks afterwards, he wouldn't sleep by himself, wouldn't go to day care and cried at any separation. When he started 'playing dead' at the sitter's (laying down, holding flowers on his chest and asking kids to sprinkle water on him so he could be alive again- poor babysitter, she was sooo freaked out) we finally caught on.
So I sat down and had a serious talk with him. "Honey, are you worried you are going to die? Well, you aren't. You aren't going to die. Mommy and Daddy aren't going to die. Nobody is ever going to die. Ever." And we let him continue playing dead at home, of course. But he didn't really need to after that.
I completely got away with it. What he needed was reassurance that everything was going to be fine--at a level the he could understand. At 3 1/2 that level was pretty basic. As he grew up, we talked about death in more mature ways. He's got it now. He's 24.
At age 5, she may be a little to savvy for a stunt like mine.
But try talking to her and reassuring her. Point out some things:
*5 year old are healthy, and hardly ever die.
*mom and dad are healthy, and aren't going to die for a long long time.
At this age she does not need a higher level of understanding . She needs to know that she's going to be ok.
posted by SLC Mom at 7:29 PM on December 13, 2010
You might find this previous related discussion helpful: When do children develop a sense of their own mortality? The firsthand accounts of early concern with mortality might reassure you that your daughter is not alone in her fears.
This is tough going; it *will* get better. Good on you for being such a concerned and compassionate parent.
posted by MonkeyToes at 7:30 PM on December 13, 2010
This is tough going; it *will* get better. Good on you for being such a concerned and compassionate parent.
posted by MonkeyToes at 7:30 PM on December 13, 2010
I remember being obsessed with my own death around age six. I watched a lot of TV as a kid, and knew from Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers that everybody dies. I also watched a lot of news. Combining my new awareness of death with what I saw on the MacNeil Lehrer News Hour, I had vivid nightmares about being killed by someone in a military uniform, who was probably Manuel Noriega. I was afraid he would come kill me in my sleep. I was especially afraid that he would come get me and my family when we visited Disney World because it was closer to his home.
I was too afraid to tell anyone for a while before I finally told my mom. She listened carefully, thanked me for telling her and gave me hugs. I didn't believe her when she told me that nobody was particularly interested in killing me, so she carefully explained just how far away Nicaragua is. As she explained all the layers between me and old Manuel, I became less afraid.
Kids are extremely perceptive. I'm glad your daughter is sharing her fears with you rather than keeping them all bottled up the way I did. Ask gently if there is something specific she is afraid of, and see what her understanding of death is. Based on my own experience it's possible that she took a cognitive leap that bypasses things she may not understand yet. Patience, love, listening and hugs can help.
posted by ladypants at 7:37 PM on December 13, 2010
I was too afraid to tell anyone for a while before I finally told my mom. She listened carefully, thanked me for telling her and gave me hugs. I didn't believe her when she told me that nobody was particularly interested in killing me, so she carefully explained just how far away Nicaragua is. As she explained all the layers between me and old Manuel, I became less afraid.
Kids are extremely perceptive. I'm glad your daughter is sharing her fears with you rather than keeping them all bottled up the way I did. Ask gently if there is something specific she is afraid of, and see what her understanding of death is. Based on my own experience it's possible that she took a cognitive leap that bypasses things she may not understand yet. Patience, love, listening and hugs can help.
posted by ladypants at 7:37 PM on December 13, 2010
Watch the episode of Sesame street where Mr. Hooper dies with her. It still make me teary
posted by Blasdelb at 7:39 PM on December 13, 2010
posted by Blasdelb at 7:39 PM on December 13, 2010
Blasdelb, I just found the Muppet wiki for "Farewell, Mr. Hooper."
posted by MonkeyToes at 7:41 PM on December 13, 2010
posted by MonkeyToes at 7:41 PM on December 13, 2010
I somehow feel like this wouldn't be particularly comforting to a small child, but I always found something a friend said strangely comforting:
"I didn't exist for an infinite amount of time before I was born, and it wasn't so bad. Why should I fear not existing after I'm dead?"
Weird, but it makes a certain amount of sense to me.
posted by Salvor Hardin at 7:55 PM on December 13, 2010 [3 favorites]
"I didn't exist for an infinite amount of time before I was born, and it wasn't so bad. Why should I fear not existing after I'm dead?"
Weird, but it makes a certain amount of sense to me.
posted by Salvor Hardin at 7:55 PM on December 13, 2010 [3 favorites]
Talk to her about what it was like before she was born. Was that scary? No, because she wasn't herself yet.
Huh. Fairly certain you just solved my own existentialist crisis, lollusc.
...
Mind still blown.
posted by allymusiqua at 8:19 PM on December 13, 2010 [3 favorites]
Huh. Fairly certain you just solved my own existentialist crisis, lollusc.
...
Mind still blown.
posted by allymusiqua at 8:19 PM on December 13, 2010 [3 favorites]
the perfectly accurate, utterly terrifying reality that every living thing dies and there's no knowing when or how ... Death sucks and kids get that ...
IMO they get the idea that it happens from experience, but the idea that it sucks comes from talking about it with other people.
Dying, per se, really doesn't have to suck.
Being unwell or incapacitated clearly does suck, as I think any unwell or incapacitated person will confirm. But the mere fact that death for some people involves a possibly lengthy leadup of unwellness or incapacitation doesn't need to mean that death itself is sucky or scary.
It also seems to me that the fact of death - as in, total cessation of experience followed by total physical disintegration - is only blown up into this huge enormous thing mainly by people who cannot actually bring themselves to accept that its something that will inevitably happen to them. That lack of acceptance is what leads, in my opinion, to wishful beliefs like afterlives and personal reincarnation. People who do fully accept death as a natural part of life tend not to dwell on it so much.
Personally, I enjoy contemplating the prospect of my own (physical, partial, dispersed) reincarnation as apricots. Or maybe plankton.
posted by flabdablet at 8:40 PM on December 13, 2010 [1 favorite]
IMO they get the idea that it happens from experience, but the idea that it sucks comes from talking about it with other people.
Dying, per se, really doesn't have to suck.
Being unwell or incapacitated clearly does suck, as I think any unwell or incapacitated person will confirm. But the mere fact that death for some people involves a possibly lengthy leadup of unwellness or incapacitation doesn't need to mean that death itself is sucky or scary.
It also seems to me that the fact of death - as in, total cessation of experience followed by total physical disintegration - is only blown up into this huge enormous thing mainly by people who cannot actually bring themselves to accept that its something that will inevitably happen to them. That lack of acceptance is what leads, in my opinion, to wishful beliefs like afterlives and personal reincarnation. People who do fully accept death as a natural part of life tend not to dwell on it so much.
Personally, I enjoy contemplating the prospect of my own (physical, partial, dispersed) reincarnation as apricots. Or maybe plankton.
posted by flabdablet at 8:40 PM on December 13, 2010 [1 favorite]
This must be so hard for everyone. I'm wondering how much of the problem is the subject of her fixation/preoccupation, and how much is the amount of time and energy and anxiety over it?
This book is one our (almost seven year old) daughter keeps going back to. A few years ago I found it in a book sell-off place, and thought it was great because it was forthright and light-hearted and it was great for talking about people and pets, without planting thoughts about actual people in our lives - yet covering a few incidences in our "monkeysphere", such as a friend's stillborn baby. As well, because we practice no particular religion, it touches lightly on a variety of beliefs. It's been around since before her first pet fish died, and I was glad I had it handy; and she'll pull it out from time to time and ask questions, or ask me to get it to see what it says in reference to things that come up. It might be a good one to try to get her to talk more about what bothers her specifically.
And this book has been helpful for us too, and might help you to talk to your daughter about thoughts that take over. My daughter can fixate on things a bit, and my MIL has anxieties (to put it nicely), and this helped us to talk about the power of thoughts, and about what other people do to manage them when they're scary and controlling.
She may also want to talk to someone whom, to her, feels like an authority on the subject. Would your family doctor talk with her about it? Is there someone you both know and trust that might settle her mind? Someone with a little remove might make a big difference. And, based on some of my own experiences, I'll put forth that while her distress is no doubt genuine, a super bright and thoughtful child will also soon figure out that this is also an excellent way to get some focused and undivided extra-loving parental attention (and I mean that in the nicest way possible!).
I wish you the best.
posted by peagood at 8:43 PM on December 13, 2010
This book is one our (almost seven year old) daughter keeps going back to. A few years ago I found it in a book sell-off place, and thought it was great because it was forthright and light-hearted and it was great for talking about people and pets, without planting thoughts about actual people in our lives - yet covering a few incidences in our "monkeysphere", such as a friend's stillborn baby. As well, because we practice no particular religion, it touches lightly on a variety of beliefs. It's been around since before her first pet fish died, and I was glad I had it handy; and she'll pull it out from time to time and ask questions, or ask me to get it to see what it says in reference to things that come up. It might be a good one to try to get her to talk more about what bothers her specifically.
And this book has been helpful for us too, and might help you to talk to your daughter about thoughts that take over. My daughter can fixate on things a bit, and my MIL has anxieties (to put it nicely), and this helped us to talk about the power of thoughts, and about what other people do to manage them when they're scary and controlling.
She may also want to talk to someone whom, to her, feels like an authority on the subject. Would your family doctor talk with her about it? Is there someone you both know and trust that might settle her mind? Someone with a little remove might make a big difference. And, based on some of my own experiences, I'll put forth that while her distress is no doubt genuine, a super bright and thoughtful child will also soon figure out that this is also an excellent way to get some focused and undivided extra-loving parental attention (and I mean that in the nicest way possible!).
I wish you the best.
posted by peagood at 8:43 PM on December 13, 2010
We have a great book at work on this topic that would be perfect for a five year old. I can't find it on teh google right now, and am not certain of the name, so I will report back. Synopsis: Yes, people will die, but you won't enjoy today as much if that is all you think about.
Stay tuned.
posted by Trivia Newton John at 8:48 PM on December 13, 2010
Stay tuned.
posted by Trivia Newton John at 8:48 PM on December 13, 2010
This was me when I was 5. I have to say that I think most of the answers above miss the mark. They certainly wouldn't have comforted me.
1. I wasn't feeding off my parents' anxiety. They were unconcerned about death, and the more I realized this, the more concerned I became. Their indifference made me feel like I had to solve the death problem all on my own.
2. My parents told me that no one in our family would be dying anytime soon and not to worry about it. This made me feel like I wasn't being taken seriously. I don't know if that detail is even worth mentioning in light of the fact that one of my parents actually did die soon (while I was still in grade school).
3. I was also told that it would feel just like before I was born. I wasn't interested in the feeling. I was interested in not turning into nothing. Before I was born I was nothing, so that equation was terrifying (as well as useless).
I'm almost 40, and honestly, I still have existential panic attacks from time to time. The only thing that ever really comforted me was something my mom told me when I was 17, which was "Honey, whatever happens, it will happen to all of us." The idea that we are all in this together quells the anxiety a bit.
As does love. I've noticed that the more love I have in my life, the less interested I am in my mortality. Which is why the answer MonkeyToes gave is my favorite.
posted by january at 8:50 PM on December 13, 2010 [4 favorites]
1. I wasn't feeding off my parents' anxiety. They were unconcerned about death, and the more I realized this, the more concerned I became. Their indifference made me feel like I had to solve the death problem all on my own.
2. My parents told me that no one in our family would be dying anytime soon and not to worry about it. This made me feel like I wasn't being taken seriously. I don't know if that detail is even worth mentioning in light of the fact that one of my parents actually did die soon (while I was still in grade school).
3. I was also told that it would feel just like before I was born. I wasn't interested in the feeling. I was interested in not turning into nothing. Before I was born I was nothing, so that equation was terrifying (as well as useless).
I'm almost 40, and honestly, I still have existential panic attacks from time to time. The only thing that ever really comforted me was something my mom told me when I was 17, which was "Honey, whatever happens, it will happen to all of us." The idea that we are all in this together quells the anxiety a bit.
As does love. I've noticed that the more love I have in my life, the less interested I am in my mortality. Which is why the answer MonkeyToes gave is my favorite.
posted by january at 8:50 PM on December 13, 2010 [4 favorites]
I explained to my daughter that some people plant seeds over their graves so that a tree grows there, and that way you become part of the tree, and if she wanted, we could all be buried next to each other when we die so we can all be trees together. She seemed to like this idea.
posted by AlsoMike at 9:04 PM on December 13, 2010 [2 favorites]
posted by AlsoMike at 9:04 PM on December 13, 2010 [2 favorites]
I found Goodbye Mog a very moving and lovely treatment of death for the young.
posted by kmennie at 9:06 PM on December 13, 2010
posted by kmennie at 9:06 PM on December 13, 2010
My five year old, very bright daughter is going through the same phase right now.
She is obsessed with death because, let's face it, it's omnipresent, inevitable and frightening. She's asked about when she's going to die, when we are, when Gramma is and frankly it's really hard to tell her that no one knows and it just happens, sometimes without any sort of warning.
She came to us the other night and told us she didn't want to die. My wife just told her, "Okay, so don't then." It worked. I don't know if she really 'got it' or not, but just telling her that she didn't have to die now seemed to settle her mind a bit, and made her feel more in charge of the situation.
She still wants to talk about it, but now it's mostly about her dolls/toys/imaginary friends and their pets. Tonight her doll Lulu had all of her pets die, but she was okay with it. She accepted it and the fear seems to have passed.
posted by WinnipegDragon at 9:36 PM on December 13, 2010 [1 favorite]
She is obsessed with death because, let's face it, it's omnipresent, inevitable and frightening. She's asked about when she's going to die, when we are, when Gramma is and frankly it's really hard to tell her that no one knows and it just happens, sometimes without any sort of warning.
She came to us the other night and told us she didn't want to die. My wife just told her, "Okay, so don't then." It worked. I don't know if she really 'got it' or not, but just telling her that she didn't have to die now seemed to settle her mind a bit, and made her feel more in charge of the situation.
She still wants to talk about it, but now it's mostly about her dolls/toys/imaginary friends and their pets. Tonight her doll Lulu had all of her pets die, but she was okay with it. She accepted it and the fear seems to have passed.
posted by WinnipegDragon at 9:36 PM on December 13, 2010 [1 favorite]
This was me, exactly, at around that age. My parents say I had really bad nightmares. I won't go into the details, but it did kinda fuck me up for awhile. I think one of the contributing factors was that my father went through an existential and religious crisis and went from deeply religious to atheist. My mother did not follow.
I think what would have helped me was to sit down and talk about the different beliefs about death and the afterlife, and how that should shape the life you live right now. I think turning the subject from worrying about the future because of death, to experiencing the present because of death, would have been healthy for me. As it stood, I ended up with an unhealthy ambition to do great things so that I wouldn't be forgotten, which led to some misguided choices.
Also, nthing the Mr. Hooper sesame street episode, and looking into other kids' shows' treatment of the subject. A lot of people who write for these have a knack for explaining these things in ways that a child can both understand and not be completely terrified by.
posted by hoperaiseshell at 10:01 PM on December 13, 2010
I think what would have helped me was to sit down and talk about the different beliefs about death and the afterlife, and how that should shape the life you live right now. I think turning the subject from worrying about the future because of death, to experiencing the present because of death, would have been healthy for me. As it stood, I ended up with an unhealthy ambition to do great things so that I wouldn't be forgotten, which led to some misguided choices.
Also, nthing the Mr. Hooper sesame street episode, and looking into other kids' shows' treatment of the subject. A lot of people who write for these have a knack for explaining these things in ways that a child can both understand and not be completely terrified by.
posted by hoperaiseshell at 10:01 PM on December 13, 2010
Response by poster: Thanks all. A lot of different ideas to consider. I deeply appreciate it. I most certainly am giving consideration to everything written here. I can not tell you how grateful I am for your input. So much wisdom from so many viewpoints.
posted by jcworth at 10:34 PM on December 13, 2010
posted by jcworth at 10:34 PM on December 13, 2010
My 4 year-old daughter hit the same point last month, complete with a horrible, horrible meltdown, with her thrashing to get out of her car seat, screaming "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!!!"
So yeah, it is pretty much the worst moment of your life, seeing that fear, isn't it?
What I did was to tell her that nobody knows what will happen, but it happens to everybody, and I will always be with her, wherever she goes. I will never leave her. Lame, and possibly damaging to our trust relationship if she remembers this conversation by the time I die. But heart-felt, at least.
I am an atheist (and have never been terribly concerned with the afterlife), but I have no problem with my kids growing up to be theists, if that is what appeals to them. This kid, in particular, will probably need religion (or spirituality), because she thinks about and worries about everything. SO, in my moment of panic I reverted to the one religious image she knows, courtesy of her Catholic grandma: the baby Jesus(whom she calls "Baby Cheese-it". Sorry, Christians.)
Now my daughter has this really convoluted picture of the afterlife, in which people die, turn invisible, float up into the sky, and are protected by the baby Jesus as they bounce from cloud to cloud with the Monkey King from Ni Hao Kai Lan.
My pre-parent self would have been shocked at the LIES I am telling my daughter, and I certainly don't want to go telling anybody to wus out and tell a religious story they don't believe in (like I did). HOWEVER, belief in a SOMETHING after death has brought my own emo 4 year old a tremendous amount of peace, so we're sticking to our story around here.
posted by lisaici at 10:55 PM on December 13, 2010
So yeah, it is pretty much the worst moment of your life, seeing that fear, isn't it?
What I did was to tell her that nobody knows what will happen, but it happens to everybody, and I will always be with her, wherever she goes. I will never leave her. Lame, and possibly damaging to our trust relationship if she remembers this conversation by the time I die. But heart-felt, at least.
I am an atheist (and have never been terribly concerned with the afterlife), but I have no problem with my kids growing up to be theists, if that is what appeals to them. This kid, in particular, will probably need religion (or spirituality), because she thinks about and worries about everything. SO, in my moment of panic I reverted to the one religious image she knows, courtesy of her Catholic grandma: the baby Jesus(whom she calls "Baby Cheese-it". Sorry, Christians.)
Now my daughter has this really convoluted picture of the afterlife, in which people die, turn invisible, float up into the sky, and are protected by the baby Jesus as they bounce from cloud to cloud with the Monkey King from Ni Hao Kai Lan.
My pre-parent self would have been shocked at the LIES I am telling my daughter, and I certainly don't want to go telling anybody to wus out and tell a religious story they don't believe in (like I did). HOWEVER, belief in a SOMETHING after death has brought my own emo 4 year old a tremendous amount of peace, so we're sticking to our story around here.
posted by lisaici at 10:55 PM on December 13, 2010
Found it. The Happiest Day of My Life
It doesn't cover heaps of territory, because it is aimed at younger children. It might be a start though.
posted by Trivia Newton John at 2:44 AM on December 14, 2010
It doesn't cover heaps of territory, because it is aimed at younger children. It might be a start though.
posted by Trivia Newton John at 2:44 AM on December 14, 2010
I responded in that thread MonkeyToes mentioned. What helped my son when he had his existential crisis was us telling him what people believed happened when we die. We weren't (and aren't) raising our kids with religion but we were able to explain to him what various religion's tenets are (heaven, reincarnation, etc.) and those things really, really comforted him. He was just about six at the time. He decided at the time that he believed in heaven and we certainly let him have that. He's now 13 and doesn't believe in heaven or God any longer but he also doesn't panic at the thought of death.
posted by cooker girl at 4:25 AM on December 14, 2010 [1 favorite]
posted by cooker girl at 4:25 AM on December 14, 2010 [1 favorite]
My mom died this past year and after agreeing with Mrs. Plinth, we decided to be completely open about her death with my kids. My son is 3 and pretty sharp. My daughter is 7 and has cognitive delays. My daughter took everything completely in stride and mostly took conversations as affirmations.
My son was fascinated by the whole thing and I would make it clear to him on days when I was taking it harder than others and he would say things like, "dada - you're sad because Mary Kay died." I'd tell him, "yes that's right." He didn't want me sad, so a few months later after much digestion, he assured me that I was going to have a new mommy: that his mommy would be my new mommy. I told him that was very sweet/thoughtful, but we only ever get one mommy. He denied this. After a few more months of digestion, he started to become worried that Mrs. Plinth and I were going to die. I didn't deny it, but instead let him know that we had no intention of dying anytime soon. Again, some denial, but he's more-or-less assimilated this.
Things pop out now and again. A few weeks ago, apropos of nothing he said, "dada, I'm not going to kill you". I thanked him, but mentally I was waiting for a qualification: "...yet.", "...today, but I'll likely kill you in the morning.", "...but I'm looking forward to seeing you suffer."
posted by plinth at 6:49 AM on December 14, 2010
My son was fascinated by the whole thing and I would make it clear to him on days when I was taking it harder than others and he would say things like, "dada - you're sad because Mary Kay died." I'd tell him, "yes that's right." He didn't want me sad, so a few months later after much digestion, he assured me that I was going to have a new mommy: that his mommy would be my new mommy. I told him that was very sweet/thoughtful, but we only ever get one mommy. He denied this. After a few more months of digestion, he started to become worried that Mrs. Plinth and I were going to die. I didn't deny it, but instead let him know that we had no intention of dying anytime soon. Again, some denial, but he's more-or-less assimilated this.
Things pop out now and again. A few weeks ago, apropos of nothing he said, "dada, I'm not going to kill you". I thanked him, but mentally I was waiting for a qualification: "...yet.", "...today, but I'll likely kill you in the morning.", "...but I'm looking forward to seeing you suffer."
posted by plinth at 6:49 AM on December 14, 2010
I went through this when I was about that age- I still remember it. My Dad explained to me that I was so young that I probably wouldn't die, and that furthermore, he forbid me to die, because he would not bury any of his children. This was exactly what I needed to hear.
posted by ThePinkSuperhero at 8:11 AM on December 14, 2010 [1 favorite]
posted by ThePinkSuperhero at 8:11 AM on December 14, 2010 [1 favorite]
To come back to this, I think I can add one last thought this discussion.
My wife and I have basically agreed that this is the one time it was okay to lie to my daughter. We are very truthful with her even about stuff like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.
We lied when we said we weren't going to die soon, we lied when we told her that she wouldn't die soon. We have no idea that either of those things is true, but I guess the root of it is, if you are going to lie to your kids about something, this is the one to lie about until they are old enough to deal with reality.
posted by WinnipegDragon at 10:08 AM on December 14, 2010 [1 favorite]
My wife and I have basically agreed that this is the one time it was okay to lie to my daughter. We are very truthful with her even about stuff like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.
We lied when we said we weren't going to die soon, we lied when we told her that she wouldn't die soon. We have no idea that either of those things is true, but I guess the root of it is, if you are going to lie to your kids about something, this is the one to lie about until they are old enough to deal with reality.
posted by WinnipegDragon at 10:08 AM on December 14, 2010 [1 favorite]
This thread is closed to new comments.
posted by facetious at 6:48 PM on December 13, 2010