In as much as the grieving process is not a linear process, the process for children is far more complex than it is in adults. The developmental stage a child is in directly affects how they will experience loss. Furthermore, as they progress through the developmental stages, they must process the loss through a new set of filters so-to-speak.
I remember when this was described to us in our support group sessions. The prospect of my child revisiting the raw stage of loss every few years was less than thrilling. And this was before I knew how variable my own grieving process would be.
This concept of developmental grieving has peaked in this past year. YaYa, who is now 12 years old, must certainly be a prime candidate for the Pre-Teens and Early Adolescents stage of the game. Other than staying aware, I’m not sure how else to prepare him or me for what could be ahead of us.
In the past week, I muddled through my days with nothing more than briefly checking in on YaYa’s state of mind. Homework and baseball seemed to have him totally consumed. It remained this way until Friday night. While out to dinner, it became clear that indeed I was not the only one processing the anniversary of his father’s death. Just as with me, this year, YaYa had a different set of questions from before.
He wanted to know:
· If Papa had beat the his Cancer with treatments, why didn’t his Dad have treatments for his Cancer?
· Why was the Cancer caught so late?
· Did the doctors do something wrong?
They were all great questions for which there was not right answer. I did my best to provide honest but neutral responses — responses which I am not sure that I was capable of giving 4 years ago. I told him that I had asked myself many of the same questions in the past years, how I had second-guessed decisions that we had made when the various aches and pains had arose through the years, and how I had gone through all of his father’s medical records looking for these answers – to no avail.
It wasn’t much, but it was all I had. In response, YaYa looked me in the eyes and, from across the table, he gave me a warm knowing smile. Then, we clinked glasses and gave thanks for the year behind us, as well as the year ahead.
And I, at the end of a particularly challenging week, gave thanks for this incredible young man. Young, yet wise. Gentle, but strong. Fearful, and also brave. It’s not always easy but he is a good reminder that it’s definitely worth it.