My mother-in-law is presiding over one of the most unique and touching raffles that I have ever seen. Spread out on a table in front of her are about fifty pieces of costume jewelry (necklaces, bracelets, earrings, scarf pins, and even a coveted pocketknife). Each item is accompanied by a numbered slip of paper. The table is surrounded by a dozen or so eager children, ages two to ten. All these kids have one thing in common: they are the great-grandchildren of the owner of these things. And she has passed away. In accordance to her wishes, these pieces are to be given to the children.Funerals inevitably raise difficult questions for parents. Should we go? Should we bring the kids? How do we balance our need to honor the deceased and to support our family with our desire to insulate our kids from grief and painful reality? When do we take the kids to a funeral, and when should they stay home?
The issues of mortality enter the household along with a child's first goldfish. The fact of death is relatively easy to talk about with younger kids. For the pre-schooler, the abstract permanence of death doesn't make a bit of sense. Or maybe it just makes complete sense. The death of a goldfish even provides a good opportunity to talk about your belief system with your child.
Grief is different. Grief is harder to explain, but much easier for the child to comprehend. Grief, more than death, is the thing I feel compelled to shield my children from. Although grief may be a part of healing, although grief may be a natural part of life and of loving that children should know about, my instinct is to hold them back just a little longer.
There are a few considerations for any parent contemplating taking a child to a funeral. Will there be an open casket? Do you worry about the lingering visual image that might result? What was the person's age and the circumstances of his or her passing? Can you get a sense for how intense the grieving will be?
We've decided to bring our three kids along with us to the funeral of their great-grandmother. It wasn't that hard of a decision, really. My wife's grandmother had led such a beautifully lived life. She had presided over an extended and happy family into her 90th year – an extended family that gathered from all over the country for the funeral.
The cousins of all ages are pawing the displayed jewelry, even the boys, like pirates over pieces of eight. The raffle begins, and the pocketknife goes early – to my sister-in-law's four-year old daughter. (She takes after mother. The girl waited until the raffle was nearly over and swapped the knife to my son for his whole load of loot. She had to cart away her legacy in the front of her dress.)
I am momentarily upset by the image of these kids playing so carelessly with the departed woman's precious things – an earring falls and the clasp is crushed underfoot – but the lesson soon sinks in. I can almost hear Rommey say, "Oh, those silly things. That's nothing. Look at them smiling. Look at that.
"Oh, my, yes."
Clay Nichols, Health Correspondent:
Clay’s column, Dadventure, published twice monthly to Gather Essentials: Health, is a sure-fire field guide to raising flawless, perfectly behaved, and always obedient children. Yeah, right.
Clay is the co-author of Filmmaking for Teens: Pulling Off Your Shorts, an award-winning playwright, and the Chief Creative Officer at DadLabs.com, a fatherhood website.
You can find all of Clay’s Dadventure articles at http://gather.com/dadventure
Keep up with Clay’s other postings and Gather activity by joining his Gather network -- just click here and select the orange “Connect” button on the left-hand side of the page
You’ll find Clay and other health correspondents, plus expert guest columnist content and plenty of other health nuts at Health.gather.com


Comments: 21
Her mom said that she understood that her dad wasn't coming home, but seeing her at the funeral made me wonder about that. She obviously didn't completely grasp the situation. It sucks, but what can you do?
Other columns in the Excel of Funerals with Kids?
How did I get started on this subject?
Looking forward to your next piece!
Sometimes parents worry that it isn't good for their kids to see their own grief, but I think a certain amount of that is actually good; it helps the children to see that it's okay to be sad about the death. When parents are only stoic about the death in front of the children, it's easy for the children to misunderstand that and think no one else is sad. Seeing parents or adults with uncontrolled grief can be scary, though.
This is something I've witnessed and discussed a lot during my time in nursing school, especially during my pediatrics rotation (since a lot of those patients have grieving brothers and sisters). Children are really extraordinary.
Wurdzgurl, Kathleen, Gerald, Leah, Wendy, Birdie, Sonia -- thanks for the insights and wisdom. I think I'll be less afraid of grief as it touches my kids in the future. Takes guts, though. You guys have 'em.
If you're not sure how the kids will handle the funeral itself--which can be really intensely emotional, with the closing of the casket, and especially if its a graveside service--I'd stick to the wake.
You both point to the aspect of the weekend that I felt was clearly the most beneficial to my kids -- getting together with the extended family. Rare with us in Texas and most of them in the Northeast. I'm glad the kids went. I'm also that this sad but peaceful service was their first of this kind.
I think funerals where the deceased has led a beautiful and full life are a totally different kind of ceremony than a sudden death or a suicide. If the parents can't keep the emotions somewhat under control because of the situation, it's probably better to leave the children with a neighbor or someone else. Because I've been to funerals where the grieving has been so intense that I think children would be confused and afraid.
You put it very well. Thanks for your thoughts.
I think Wurdzgurl is really on to something. If I am remembering the timeline correctly it was about 10 months from her suicide until it really hit me. Of course I really missed my friend and the others in that family as well.
My first time reading you. I enjoyed your article.