Awareness of death

DGS, three and a half, is obsessed with killing people. He is not that interested in guns but loves knights and dragons. He went through a phase where he was always holding a plastic knight's sword or Viking axe at somebodies neck (often mine) while telling them that he was killing them. This has passed, but as I have mentioned on other posts. when we walked up Dragon's Hill at Christmas he told me he had seen a dragon on the hill and that it ate mummies and daddies. When half joking, I said what will you do if the Dragon eats your Mummy and Daddy he said quite cheerfully that DH and I could be his new Mummy and Daddy!

It was a bit disconcerting. He comes from a happy home with gentle parents who are devoted to him and his sister and both his father and grandfather are gentle non-violent men. Mind you he also likes playing football, which also worries his father and grandfather, neither of whom have ever willingly kicked a ball or shown anything but revulsion at the thought of having to watch a game!

MargaretX's post reminded me of a friend telling me some years ago that she had to tell her daughter aged about 4 that a dear elderly friend had died and the child asked" who shot her?" That was when she realised just how much children's television needs censoring.

I mean the bit about on the plane of course.

Bluebelle! That is so funny! (last bit of your post)

Ther is lot of shooting which all children copy as soon as they have a toy gun. My daughter was against this but her son -of course- starting shooting people 'dead'. His mother said Oh what a shame, now there is a little boy without a mummy or a daddy. You wouldn't like that!
That stopped him in his tracks! He had just never seen it that way just like thousands of men still haven't.

I don't know how I feel about watching a loved one die and being with them but I get the impression that it eases the grieving to be with the person for some time after they have died.

I chose not to see my Mum or Dad I sat with them as they died and I didn't want to see them as someone else had made them look

I did see my Mum in the undertakers and she did not look like herself - they had been tarting her up a bit and she was a very casual person, so it looked all wrong. I did not find it a helpful experience.

When Dad died last August, I was miles away and he was in the undertakers by the time I got down there - I chose not to see him. My sister, who lives nearby, saw him shortly after he died and was able to say goodbye to a body that looked like him. I would have done so if I had been nearer.

The idea of keeping the body at home for a while seems to be a good one to me.

My mother died in her sleep suddenly and unexpectedly at our holiday home in France and, in France as well it is usual to keep the body at home for awhile. Even the embalming process took place at home. When we saw the undertaker we asked for the body to be removed after 24 hours.

My parents had been sleeping in a twin bedded room as it was downstairs and on the first night my father slept in the room as normal with my mother laid out on the other bed. I think he needed to do so to accustom himself to what had happened because it was so unexpected. They had been married for nearly 60 years.

My own attitude to visiting the dead tends to vary with circumstances. My father died as we reached the hospital. He was in a side ward and I was able to sit quietly with him and say goodbye there. I was on holiday when my sister died after an accident and only saw her on the life support machine. I wanted to see her later but the undertaker advised against it because of her head was so badly bruised.

Margaret my grandkids who lost their Daddy are Irish and there also it is normal for the person to be laid out in public for everyone to say goodbye to. My grand children were asked if they wanted to say a last goodbye to Daddy and explained that he would look asleep. They both wanted to maybe its natural childhood curiosity but they took it in there stride my grandson (the elder ) kissed his Daddy, the little one didn't want to but stroked his hand.

On the plane over from Ireland to UK as we went above the clouds my grandson in a loud voice said 'can we visit Daddy in heaven' a man in the seat behind equally loudly said 'I bl**dy hope not'

I heard a lovely story today, which makes you realise how little children really don't understand death. A friends mother died about this time last year. When my friends GCs went to visit her mother (their great gran) they used to be allowed to play with some teddies their great nan kept in the spare room. This Christmas the four year old said he wanted to see the great nan, so my friend asked why and he said he wanted to play with the teddies. She said to him "but you know she died, so I am afraid you cant" and the little boy said "What, she's died again".......

Ah, Suez... I was in Cyprus, and we left to go to Kenya, via Aden - suddenly there were troops going in the opposite direction - we had no idea what was happening. Eventually we got some news in Nairobi, about Nasser, nationalising the Canal and the general cockup that followed... Everything was serene in Nairobi, the Mau-Mau emergency ending - bliss: we could go out without being armed to the teeth - no EOKA, no Mau-Mau and Nasser far away to the North!

When DD2 was about 3 my father, her favourite grandparent, died. She seemed ok with this but later asked me if I would die. When I said something along the lines of 'eventually' she asked if she could keep me in her bed so she could keep cuddling me.

Although I was never afraid to see the person I knew or loved when dead, I do not visit graves. I visited my father's grave and it was such a non-event, that I have never been since. There is nothing in the grave to visit.
DH pays to have the grave where all his ancestors lie, kept nice and tidy but does not go himself. We both think the same about this.

I can't see that hamsters can prepare a child about death. Life itself will do that much better. r

Hamsters are very good at dying.

My children always had hamsters and that introduced them to death which they seemed to accept a little too philosophically. Our youngest was the only one to visit my parents grave on boxing day though which made me feel guilty as I hadn't even thought of it.

I loved Brian Blessed in Z Cars just wish he didn't shout so loud all the time.

In the immortal words of Brian Blessed in Flash [Gordon] 'Who wants to live forever?' The film was on the other day.

Until I was about 11 and my grandfather died, I hadn't know anyone in my family to die, and I don't remember thinking about death at all growing up in the 1950's.I don't remember my own children talking or thinking about death either[though they may have done ]they were all about 11/12 before the next family member [ that they knew] died their great-grandma who was 93.
However my DGS aged 9 has been talking about death for at least a year, he doesn't know anyone who has died, but the idea that we don't live forever has now sunk in [the curse of being human.]he is frightened that I will die, or his parents.Perhaps in his case it's all the violent computer games and films around [and other children talking about it.]Things that are on the news before the parents can grab the remote and turn it off maybe.My own children had to deal with cats and hamsters not living all that long, but they seemed to accept that.

I think the Maori farewell process takes a week and a member of the family is with the deceased 24 hours a day (not always the same member). Apparently, my two older grandchildren were not at all worried by this custom and sat quietly by "old grandpa's" (great grandfather's) bed remembering how he was before they said goodbye and went home. Absentdaughter, who of course is not used to this custom, found it harder to deal with.

I think there is a problem when the adult has not faced up to death. My father died when I was 17 and 8 years later I found my mother dead in bed.

Bodies were whisked away in those days but here in Germany they can be visited up to 4 days after the death, kept in cooled rooms, and families do go, it is all very private. My GS went to see his gt grandmother lying in her coffin and accepted it quite naturally. She was a really nice person he remarked.

When I told this story to English relatives they were shocked, made faces and called it macabre!
I couldn't convince them that it was natural to spend time with the dead person and not have them taken away out of sight.

i remember the Suez crisis because my mum was coming back from a round the world cruise - and just got through the canal on the last ship through!
I don't think I was allowed to know very much at the time though...

I was at boarding school aged 11. I remember being worried that my father would be called up. They had to come and visit me to reassure me that he was too old and as a GP he was exempt.

I can remember the Suez crisis. I was 7 and my Mum was afraid of war breaking out. I can remember being worried because she was. My grandmother died when I was 3. She lived with us and I took her a 'cup of tea' in my dolls tea set every day. I can vividly remember Mum saying that Nana wouldn't want any tea today - that was my first experience of death although I didn't realise it. The next time I faced death was my other grandmother when I was 19. None of my gc's understood when John died; they just know he isn't there any more. DGD2 age 4 often tells me that 'Grandad has died hasn't he?'. She waves to him from the plane when she flies yelling, very loudly, 'hello Grandad!'. We keep his memory alive for them with lots of photos and talk.

...I bet you do "goofy" with style, jings

The Suez crisis happened when I was 15 and becoming politically aware. My Dad thereafter would have no truck with the Sunday Times which supported the British action. The same year saw the ruthless suppression by the USSR of the brave Hungarian uprising.

I think the most awareness my grandsons have of death is the fact that they can "shoot" me and I will invariably end up in the nearest armchair with my mouth open, and a goofy look on my face. Long may it continue.