The Pinhole by Lavender Kelley

A young one was lost, wandering in the dark.  Occasionally, she would bump into others who also roamed.  But, they did not realize she was lost.  They did not understand that they were lost as well.  A few of them believed they knew the path and took her with them.  She trusted them and went where they went.  However, with time, she always ended up alone and even more lost… a little more afraid than before with a few new injuries that told of her journey through the dark.

Once in a while, she thought she could see a distant pinhole in the dark through which light shown.  She tried to make the journey to look through the pinhole, but each time the great chasm of darkness, her painful injuries, and vexing fears made her lose sight of the light.  Sometimes she stopped when  she  met some who had been hurt badly.  She tried to help them.  But when she did, her own injuries got worse and the pinhole seemed even farther away.

Eventually, she came to see the pinhole less and less.  Sometimes she doubted there was any light at all.  She imagined that she was abandoned in the darkness as a way of punishing her.  She did not like the way thinking about that made her feel.  She liked to sit and imagine what wondrous things there were outside the darkness.  From time to time, that gave her hope but the hope would quickly vanish into the darkness.  Mostly, however, she just felt trapped, believing that she deserved the darkness and that she would never know anything more of the light than the image of the pinhole that eluded her.

One day, feeling desperate, she moved through the darkness as quickly as she could.  She called out names of those that might know of the light.  Someone heard her, but he did not know anything of the pinhole.  Wanting to help, that one called to another and then another.  In a matter of moments, she was passed through the darkness along a corridor and found herself with someone different than the others she had met.  Rather than tell her that she was lost and just needed to follow someone that “knows,” this one listened to her share her journey and the hope for peering through the pinhole.  After hearing this courageous account, this new one held her tightly.  She wept in the embrace.  This was not like the holding of the darkness that always felt cold and unwelcome.  This embrace was warm, inviting.  There was something very different about this feeling.  She knew that she was safe.  She knew that she was loved.  And then her eyes opened. 

She immediately understood that it had not been a pinhole in the distance that she had seen all this time.  Rather, it was the light around her trying to enter her eyelids.  At first she felt shame.  She cried out, “Why did I not just open my eyes?  I would not have all these gashes and bruises.  See, it is my fault!”

This one held her hand and said, “It is not your fault. No one held you tightly enough for you to know.  No one told you.  All you knew were the others with their eyes closed.”

Suddenly, she realized that this one was not just right in front of her.  This One was everywhere… even in her.  That pinhole had not only been the light trying to show her the way out of the darkness.  It had also been her light trying to illuminate the darkness for them all. 

She heard the One speak.  “You will still hurt, but you will also find true rest.  Rest, my little one.  Rest in the light and do not fear the dark.  We are One and never alone.”

Helping Children Cope After Traumatic Loss

Recently, I was asked for advice on what to do with children on a significant date in the life of a grandparent who committed suicide less than a year ago.  The questions were about whether to involve their children ranging in ages from 7-12 in rituals and sharing as well as how to talk with them.  The parent also shared with me details of how each child tends to process, communicate, and share emotion.  The following is my response to that person with appropriate edits to protect the family. 

[Friend],

You’ve been in my thoughts and prayers.  No death is ever easy but some are harder and leave us with more questions than others. Suicide is usually among the hardest for everyone to make peace with, not just for children.  So, let me start by saying that I hope you are finding the support you need.  Maintaining all your roles as parent, spouse, child, and so much more is incredibly difficult in the midst of grief, especially when it is traumatic and unexpected.

Talking to kids about death is a significant part of what I do for a living but telling you for certain how to handle it is impossible. Every child is different and you obviously know that because of the way you describe them.  So, I suggest you give yourself credit and trust your intuition with them. 

From what I know of you and [your spouse], you are open parents who talk in age appropriate ways to your children.  But as a reminder, it is best to use consistent, direct wording like “dead” or “death” because you don't want this to be confused with other types of leaving. But a difficulty you face is that [your oldest child] is now processing from a combination of abstract and concrete thinking whereas [your youngest child] is still a concrete thinker.  This may mean having conversations with them at different times so they can each ask and get what they need.  Personally, I avoid theological messages like “God needed him in heaven” because it gives kids painful messages they can’t process about their own safety here and now. But it is okay to talk about “being with God and Jesus in heaven” if that is what you believe.

Most importantly, when they are ready, answer their questions and talk to them about it. Every kid is different so those questions will come at different times.  You can encourage questions without forcing the conversation. But when one of them does ask questions, be prepared to answer the tough ones like when will grandma, mommy, daddy, siblings, and self will die. Try never to act shocked by their questions because they’ll interpret it as something being wrong with their questions.  Sometimes they ask truly difficult ones like “what did he do wrong that he killed himself?” or “if I die, will you replace me?”  These are questions that need straight answers.  Listen for what the underlying need or fear is and just answer them in simple, honest ways.

Now that I’ve gone on (maybe too long) about how to talk, let me get to your specific questions about what to do on these significant dates like birthdays, death anniversaries, and such.  I appreciate you “not wanting to put any emotions on the [the children]” but they need to see the wide array of emotions you have AND witness you handling them appropriately. In part, this is done by you having conversations with [your spouse] (perhaps even including them) where you share your thoughts and feelings but only go as far as they can handle.  It will give them courage to handle their own emotions to witness you two doing the same.

As for what specifically to say or do, do whatever is natural and meaningful to you and your family.  Kids need to learn that rituals and remembrances are a way we hold onto people in a healthy way.  If it is meaningful for you to tell stories, then do that.  It you prefer to do something else, please do.  What’s important is that the children see you as facing your grief and dealing with it rather than avoiding it.  But also give room for them to grow into and prefer other rituals of their own.  Some kids like to write letters or draw pictures for the person who has died.  Anyway, whatever is done, you should emphasize that this is about BOTH honoring/loving [the grandparent] AND helping ya’ll to express your feelings.  With time they will come to understand that those activities ultimately make your memories of [the grandparent] more meaningful.

Again, I want to encourage you to trust yourself while also listening to your inner needs.  Kids are more in tune with sensing comfort and discomfort than they are your specific words.  If you are uncomfortable, please do what you need to grow through that.  But also just be honest with them about why you are uncomfortable.  That will help them more than trying to hide your discomfort.

I hope this has been helpful.  You will continue to be in my prayers.  Please let me kwon I you need anything. I also have some great children’s resources like coloring books, books for various reading levels, and support information if you are interested.  I could ship you anything you think might be helpful.

Grace and Peace,

Lavender

P.S. Now that I read back through this I think the one thing I didn't say that I wanted to is that they are looking to you to learn how to grieve.  You are their guide and they will likely be able to handle whatever rituals or events you include them in as long as you prepare them for it.  Make sure they know what to expect.  I know it sounds odd to tell someone step by step what will happen at a ritual but kids need to know in advance what concrete steps to take or they are more caught in their fear than their wonder.  It is in wonder that rituals bear their greatest gifts.