Grieving children
My last living grandparent, my grandmother on my mother’s side, passed away on December 20th, 2006. My oldest was four years old when it happened, and is thus old enough to remember her great-grandmother. She took the news of her death very hard. It was hard on me as well, because it was very sudden - one day she was fine, the next day she had a heart attack. But it wasn’t a huge shock - my grandmother was 92 years old and had been in a nursing home that year with Alzheimer’s, so we knew it was coming eventually.
My daughter had a difficult time with the grief process, crying a lot for a very long time, even breaking down in the middle of something fun and distracting. In January, I decided to try something to help her out a bit.
Even though I’m crafty in many ways, sewing is not my strong suit. You should see me sewing on a button of fixing a broken seam. It’s functional, but it isn’t pretty. Still, sloppy sewing skills aside, I sat up late one night - a night when I should have been cleaning or sleeping since we were having a party the next day - with a pattern, a pair of my husband’s new sports socks, and some thread. Following the excellent pattern carefully, I managed to have the body fully done by the time I fell into bed. Two days later, I had finished it. I made my daughter a homemade doll.
But it wasn’t just any doll. She had asked my husband to get her an “Aggie” doll at the store. Aggie was my grandmother’s name and it was what my daughter called her. I knew there was likely to be a shortage of senior citizen dolls at the store, which was when I set out to find a simple pattern where I could customize the appearance.
With some blue buttons for eyes and some white yarn for hair, plus some clothing I took off a teddy bear and from the outgrown baby clothes, I made my daughter a one-of-a-kind Aggie doll.
It wasn’t perfect but it made her smile and made her happy, and whenever she missed her Aggie she could hug her doll close.
Eventually Aggie got moved to the rocking chair with the rest of the stuffed toys. Tonight I heard my daughter crying and went in to investigate, wondering if a tummy ache from too many berries was keeping her awake. She told me she missed Aggie tonight. Immediately I went and got her doll and gave it to her. I laid down with her and told her that maybe if she thinks about some of the fun things they used to do together or about some stuff she’d like to tell my grandmother, she might be lucky enough to dream about her.
I peeked in ten minutes ago and she’s sound asleep with her Aggie doll wrapped up in her arms. Her cheeks were still wet, but she had a hint of a smile. Maybe she’s dreaming already.
How do you deal with your child’s grief?
(Photos taken by me, used with permission)
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