I had the unfortunate experience recently of having to explain death to my daughter. Back when she was 6 years-old I had to tell her about the parent of one of her friends passing. I was very matter of fact about it – can’t help it, it’s my personality, and all I told her was that he had been ill and passed away. For a few months afterwards, I remember how she was afraid of dying every time she was sick. So lesson learned and I needed a new approach.

This time I told her that the person went to heaven. That immediately brought on the questions about what heaven was like, did she now have wings, does she hang out with the angels, etc. I answered as many questions as I could and eventually referred her to her trusty Bible.

In terms of the Haitian culture, there are various ways parents handle telling children about death. Some ignore it completely thinking that the child will eventually forget about the person. Others announce the news indirectly by their own grieving or overheard conversations. I was about my daughter’s age (8 years-old) when my mother first started telling me about people going to heaven. Since I have no recollection of being scared afterwards, I think it was the right time.

My daughter handled this sad news pretty well. She told me she felt sad and later drew a picture of the person in heaven dancing on clouds. I’m going to assume for now that this approach was more conducive to her personality

How do you handle talking to children about death? Do you have any cultural norms or have you developed your own? Do you remember the first time you were told about death?

Way back when, I wrote about my struggle with my daughter to get her to give her teeth to the Rat instead of the Tooth Fairy. Last time I updated, the Tooth Fairy was winning big time. She kept up her winning streak until last week when my daughter lost her 8th tooth. This was our conversation:

Her: My friend at school told me that the Rat can bring you more money than the Tooth Fairy.

Me: No, the Rat will bring you a nice tooth and that’s it.

Her: Well then, I want the Tooth Fairy to come get my tooth.

Me: What do you prefer – money that you’ll spend in a day or a nice tooth that will last you a lifetime.

Her: *thinking* Uh, the money.

Me: Does that make sense to you?

Her: Okay, fine! I want the Rat to come.

Hooray! Well, considering that the 7 before have gone to the Tooth Fairy, it’s not a complete win, but I’ll take what I can get at this point.

So, the next day we called the Rat from the window of our apartment and told him that we were sending him a beautiful tooth and in return we wanted an ugly one. As soon as the deed was done, my daughter (who is afraid of her own shadow) turns to me and says, “The Rat better not come to my room tonight.”

Small victories, I say