KIDS GRIEVE TOO – HOW TO HELP THEM THROUGH THEIR LOSS

“Mummy I want to jump into Pa’s arms.” Three-year-old Gabriella gazed at the photo frame of her grandpa, and grandma, which she had carefully placed on her bedside table the night before. “Mummy I miss Pa. Is Pa in Durban? Will he and grandma come and fetch me from school?”

It’s been five weeks since our world was shaken at its core. We lost our dad, Pastor Mark Naidoo, a larger-than-life man, whom we’d hoped would live forever. After all, how many 67-year old’s still go out riding their bikes with their grandchildren? How many 67-year old’s still go on fishing trips, and family outings and still manage to take care of a church of over 500 people, having a personal relationship with every one of them. Pastor Mark left an indelible mark on so many lives, both locally and globally. His hallmark character was love. I have never seen anyone love as much as Pa did. His greatest strength was loving people, and his greatest weakness was loving too much.

To my children, Adriel, 6 and Gabby, 3, he was their world. Phone calls would be made to and fro, several times a day, always filled with love and laughter. Pa lived in Durban, a six-hour drive away, but the 600kms, to him, was a short distance to travel to nurture the close bond that he shared with his grandchildren. Despite a demanding schedule of home visits, prayer requests, preaching, teaching and leading a church, Pa always made the time to visit us in Joburg, even if it was just for a day or two. Adriel and Gabby would ensure that they delighted in every moment. Gabby would jump on him and shower him with kisses. Pa always looked at her with admiration and pure love.

Adriel would have long conversations with him, and of course slip in a game of Monopoly or Ludo. Pa’s laughter would always permeate our home. Pa and Grandma would take them to McDonald’s or to the toy shop after school, and they would come home elated, excitedly recounting every moment.

We drove to Durban during the July school holidays, as a family, drumming the dashboard, clapping our hands and singing “We are going to KZN”. The children were so excited to spend time with Pa. The plans had already been discussed – fishing, ice-cream and lots of fun. Little did we know that their Pa would be admitted to hospital before we even arrived. It all happened so quickly. An angiogram found that he had five blocked arteries and required a quintuple heart bypass. It was the first time we arrived at the house without Pa waiting outside with his signature laugh and open arms, ready to hug each of us and welcome us home. The children were lost without him. However, just before the surgery, Pa surprised us all. He asked the doctor for a pass-out so he could spend a few hours with his family.

Words can’t describe the joy that abounded in the house that night. Pa got what he wanted – he had all his grandchildren in one place. Adriel, Gabby and their cousins, Leah and Eden showered him with love, and endless questions. “What are the doctors going to do Pa?” “When will you come home Pa?” “Are we still going fishing Pa?”

He took the time to carefully explain the procedure, and said the doctor had told him that if he went through with the operation he would be with them for another 20 years. He explained how old each one would be by then and how proud he would be of them.  

The next few days will forever be etched in our memories, as we prayed and pleaded with God for the operation to be a success so Pa could come home. Alas, God had other plans.

I remember quietly driving home from the hospital, contemplating how I would break the news to our four precious children before everyone else started arriving at the house. It was one of the most most difficult conversations I have ever had. Children aged 3, 6 and 10. Pa was their hero.

Grief is a difficult thing. The dictionary describes it as “intense sorrow, or distress.”

The children are grieving and every day we see it showcased in a different way.

On the day of the funeral, Gabriella left me heartbroken. I wasn’t emotionally prepared to see my 3-year-old grasp what was happening, and what played out shook me. She stood at Pa’s picture, her hands touching his face, and cried out for him. She walked outside the church, her little fingers placed over her face, tears streaming down. She then took a long walk to his car, held onto it and weeped.

As a mum, I tried my best to comfort her. To spare her any further trauma, I thought it best to send her away with friends and family for a few hours until the funeral was over.

Psychologists tell us about the different stages of grief – denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

It’s so difficult to try and equate this process to children. As a parent I see my children struggling to make sense of reality, meticulously trying to piece together the puzzle.

“Did Pa know that he was going to have his last heartbeat mum?” “How did God take him away?” “Did he know that he was not coming back home?” “Can Pa see us from heaven?” “Does he have the twirly thing on his head that angels have?” Adriel asks us questions, several times a day. I have never seen him cry, however his levels of anxiousness have increased dramatically. He watches the clock constantly, and whenever his dad or I are out of his sight, he is overcome with worry.  

Gabby on the other hand, doesn’t want to see Pa’s picture in our home. The other day she insisted that I remove the canvas picture I had hung up in the TV room. She said it needed to go back to Pa’s church in Durban. After I’d taken it down, she threw herself onto the picture and wept bucket loads of tears for Pa. Gabby’s dad had to take her for a drive until she fell asleep. Later that day she asked me if Pa was with Jesus, and if we could take a walk to visit them. She said Pa would be very very happy. “I want to jump on Pa mum.” Gabby used to hold onto his leg or throw her arms around him and greet him in a very distinct way – by rubbing her forehead on him in love, just like the way Peter Rabbit does in the movie, Peter Rabbit. I haven’t seen her do that with anyone else since his passing.

There’s a book I spotted six months ago while shopping online.

I bought it because I knew that one day…one day I would need it. I was hoping that one day would be decades from now. However, none can fathom the plans of God. I found myself searching for the book on my son’s bookshelf this week.

On many evenings, at bedtime, my hubby and I read this book to Adriel and Gabby. I am so grateful for the gift of books to help us through life’s journey even in difficult times. It’s a great resource for your child, if you are facing a similar situation.

Another book, so kindly purchased for us by a teacher from Gabby’s school, is a reminder to children of just how loved they are.

This week we spoke to Johannesburg based Educational Psychologist, Khatpagam Krishnan, to solicit her advice on how to help our children work through their grief.

She explained that the way children cope with grief is based on how their parents handle the grief.

Kathy gave us a lot to do and think about, advice that I have decided to share with you, so you can help your child through their own process.

Here are ten practical steps you can take to help your children through their grief :

1. Encourage conversation about their loved one who has passed. Let them share with you their favourite memories, from a trip to the beach to a chocolate waffles.
2. Children need concrete ways in which to express their emotions. Help them plant a memorial garden or write messages on stones that can be placed in a pot in the garden.
3. Acknowledge their moments of grief. Hold them and say “It’s ok baby, we all miss Pa.” Stay in the moment. Encourage them, letting them know they are loved. Answer their questions as best as you can. Stay age appropriate. Remember, it’s ok for them to see you crying. It makes them feel safe, knowing you are all experiencing this together. However, if you notice that it’s affecting them, find a space away from them if you need some time alone to grieve.
4. Stick to a routine. Children find great comfort in routine and structure. Try to stick to the routine they are used to as much as possible. From breakfast to bedtime, they will feel more in control of themselves, when they know what to expect.
5. Create a space, inside or outside your home, where your children can go if they want to talk to their loved one. You could have some pictures there, and an item that reminds them of the person eg. a toy, or a pack of cards.
6. Help them to make a scrap book or a memory box for their loved one. Print out pictures and give them stickers to personalise it.
7. Allow them to wear an item of their loved ones clothing. A pair of socks, or a T-shirt, may help them feel closer to them. A memory teddy bear would also be amazing.
8. If your child is little, buy him or her a bottle of bubbles. Allow them to blow bubbles into the sky to let their loved ones know that they are thinking of them.
9. Keep a close eye on your child’s behaviour. Are they more anxious? Are they clock-watching? Are they biting their nails? Are they clingy or agitated? Are they having difficulty sleeping? Are they constantly worried about where you are and if you are ok? Are they concentrating at school? If you notice any changes, please speak to a professional so you can put further steps in place to assist them.
10. Take care of Yourself. You may find yourself plunging into work or battling to keep your life together. Grief is complicated. It’s life-altering and each one of us deals with it so differently. If you need to see a counsellor, please do so. The more emotionally healthy you are, the safer your children will feel.

As parents, we can’t protect our children from the pain of loss, but we can help them get through it. By encouraging them to express their feelings in a healthy way, we can help them develop valuable coping skills, which will be beneficial to them both now and in the future.

It’s difficult navigating through our journey of grief, having lost a pivotal part of our lives. However, I am so grateful for the blessing of having known Mark Naidoo – a model husband, a phenomenal dad, a doting Grandpa and a dedicated Pastor. I am grateful for the many memories we’ve had together as a family, and I am grateful that my children have a legacy they can be so proud of.

In English we say “I miss you.” The French say “Tu me manques,” meaning, ”You are missing from me.”

A part of us is gone. But he will forever remain in our hearts, and many generations will speak of his love.

When someone has gone,

you can bring them back

for just a little while

by talking them into life

by painting a picture with your memories and your words

breathing their essence back into existence

for just a few moments.

When someone has gone

you can see them again

for a minute or two

by being all the things they once were

by allowing their best traits to filter through you

shaping your words, your thoughts and your deeds

back out into this world.

When someone has gone

you can feel them again

for just a moment

by playing their music

and singing their favourite songs

by giving yourself up to the notes that brought them alive

once upon a time, it will again.

When someone has gone

you can keep a part of them alive

by giving the love you had for them a forever place in your life

a forever seat at your table and a glorious chapter in your book.

Stories never die

tell them.

~Donna Ashworth