Mum shares the question every grieving parent dreads
Death is never a pleasant topic of conversation, especially for parents of children who have tragically passed away. Even the simplest of questions can cause a minefield of emotions and social negotiations.
Mum and counsellor Susan Legg tragically lost her 5-year-old in a car accident and there's one simple question that she fears the most:
"How many kids to you have?"
Writing for The Mighty, Legg explains why the answer after loss is never straightforward.
"Every mum who has lost a child knows the fear of those simple questions, 'Do you have any kids? How many?' We have different ways of answering, depending on the trustworthiness of the person we’re talking to, where we are in the timeline of grief, and even how we’re feeling that day."
She continues to explain that mentioning the loss of her son, Samuel, can be awkward- especially in conversation with strangers:
"Mentioning his death lands into a conversation with a dull and heavy thud. We all stare at it, uncertain of what to do next. It takes energy to navigate the clumsy dialogue that follows.
"I often end up being the one to comfort the other person."
She points out that as a society, we are not adept at discussing grief and loss.
"We are a fix-it society. If we can’t cure it by taking a pill, seeing a therapist, or distracting ourselves, we get squirmy. Death, especially the death of a child, is a disturbing reminder that we have less control than we think over our lives."
Recently, she encountered an interaction that forced her to think about the way we discuss death. While talking with an acquaintance, she mentioned that her death had been injured in a car accident.
"She said, 'How awful your daughter was hurt so badly, but thank goodness you were all OK in the end.'
"The now-familiar debate flashed through my head. We were not all OK. Should I nod my head and let it go? Or should I tell her what really happened?"
Then she saw her son standing beside her, and she made up her mind.
"Michael was standing next to me. At her comment, he put his hands over his face and rammed his head into my side.
"I knew my answer. I will show my children that it is OK to talk about death."
While there was nothing embarrassing about her son's death, Legg felt that her family was ostracised after the fatal accident.
"Of course no one thinks Samuel’s death is shameful or disgraceful. But they act like they do. They look away, change the subject, avoid talking about it or avoid talking to us altogether. They do it because they they don’t know what to say, but it looks, it feels a lot like embarrassment.
"I don’t want my kids to learn that."
So instead she is choosing to honour Samuels' memory, whether or not it leads to uncomfortable social situations.
"By mentioning him I will let my kids know that a parent’s love for their child never dies. Samuel’s life was short, and by the world’s standards it might have been insignificant, but he had incredible value and brought us joy and was cherished. We will never forget him.
"I will model how to be compassionate and gentle. I will show my kids how to listen, how to remember, and how to love."
Refusing to answer children's questions about death and loss, it begins the taboo around death.
"When we hush questions and conversations, we turn losses into unspeakable losses. Pretending that tragedy never happened teaches our children to avoid unavoidable things. If we avoid pain, it’s hard to be present in each other’s lives when we’re really hurting. It takes practice to be comfortable sharing space with someone whose pain cannot be fixed.
"There are certainly times to be silent. I don’t need to announce Samuel’s death to everyone I meet. There are times to protect my own heart, times to hold my story secret and precious.
"There are also times to be vulnerable and speak openly about death. I am learning this honesty from my children, and we’ll practice it together with courage and tenderness."