Parenting Through Grief by Natasha Sholl
hen I got the call that my brother Matt was dead, or dying, I was on my lunch break at work, getting a family photo developed at the local Kodak store. It was the first week of term and my son was asked to bring in a photo of his family to place on the kindergarten wall. If he was missing us during the day, he could look at the photo as a source of comfort. We are taught from an early age to ignore the feelings of anxiety that occur when we’re not physically close to the people we love. That was”. Whose gentle hands would lift up their tops and look at rashes and calmly tell them that they would be okay. I don’t remember how I told these two tiny brothers that my own brother would not be okay. From day one, we spoke about Matthew. We told them it was important to feel comfortable talking about what had happened. To ask questions. We went for dinner at my parents’ house with Matt’s two young children. “Did you know your dad died?” my three-year-old announced at the table. It’s not what we meant when we encouraged open conversation, but how was he to know? So much of grief is contradiction. As is parenting.
