Rev. Douglas J. House, M.Div.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted”
-St. Matthew 5:4
I was 11 years old when my grandfather died. I have never forgotten the sound of the phone ringing with the call which shared the news of his passing. As a child, his death was the first that I had experienced. I can still recall how we had traveled to the town where he and my grandmother were living. I discovered later in life that we had gone to be with my grandmother because it seemed that my grandfather’s passing might be soon. We were staying with some friends that weekend and on Sunday morning the phone call came in that Gramp had died. My mother took the call. I remember her breaking into tears and calling to me to go find my dad. Never having been through this before, I simply stood and watched as the adults responded to the news. As children, we learn a lot from the adults in our life, especially how to respond to earth-shattering events. This all was new to me, and I remember looking for clues as to how I was supposed to feel, what I was supposed to do, how I was supposed to handle Gramp’s passing. From watching the adults, I thought I was supposed to cry…but I didn’t feel like crying. I was more intent on gaining information about “what happens now” after the phone call had arrived.
As a child at the time, I wasn’t involved in funeral arrangements for my grandfather. As a matter of fact, I remember feeling as if I was being “shielded” from things. I was left with the feeling that as a child, death was a conversation that didn’t involve children. (My wife and I raised our own children differently). The only conversation that came my way about arrangements was when my dad asked me if I wanted to attend the funeral, or whether I wanted to remember my grandfather as he was. I chose the latter because I felt that was the decision I was supposed to make. “Remembering him as he was” would be the easier path for all involved. Interestingly, my teenage brother remarked years later that he was given no choice, as he was expected to put on a tie and jacket and attend the services.
Our family didn’t suffer another death for twenty years. By that time, I had experienced a call to ordained ministry and one of my internal struggles was the fear of being called to lead a funeral. I had to work through a number of issues around death and dying which seemed always to return to that Sunday morning years earlier when the phone rang and word came that my grandfather had passed. By God’s grace and with the help of many people, over time I was able to resolve issues around death and funerals that I saw as stumbling blocks to ordained ministry. As of today, I have now been ordained for 45 years, and I have led over 600 funerals in the course of my ministry.
Still, how do we respond with children when a family experiences the death of a loved one?
When my father died, my wife and I discussed whether to include our three young children on occasions when the family would be gathering, such as at the calling hours or the church funeral. At that time, our kids were 7, 5, and 3. I remembered my feeling of being “shielded” when my grandfather died and its residual effects. My wife and I agreed that the kids should be included in as many of the gatherings as it made sense. At their own level of understanding, they could begin to see that death is a part of life. It is sad to lose someone we love but being open to help children voice their feelings can be an important tool in their developmental process. Today, whenever I lead a funeral and I see young children present, I make a point of telling parents how wise it was to have brought their children with them.
I understand that every death is unique, and so is every family constellation. Depending on the children, it might not be practical to include them in every part of the funeral experience. But if they can participate somehow when the family gathers in the days following a time of death, I think that it can take them far from seeing death as something to fear. Gathering with family at such a tender time can give them a sense of inclusion. Children will then have lived through an experience which will carry them far when they are called to mourn the losses of others with the passing of time. I’ll never forget my mother saying to me when my father died, “I’m glad you brought the kids.”
