My dad died of cancer when I was 8. Something similar happens to plenty of people, I guess, but my situation is maybe a little different, because I didn't know anything about it until the very last minute.
I knew he was sick, but only that he had more time off work, and often went to bed early, I'd no idea it was serious. But then my mum told me the end was imminent the night before (he was at home but I didn't see him, I think he was unconcious by then); she woke me up the next morning, told me he'd died; I sneaked in to the bedroom for a last ten second look when she was downstairs, and that was it. I wasn't even allowed to go to the funeral.
Although I think that was a horrible mistake, I don't blame my mum for keeping it secret (I'm sure she thought she was doing her best) and I'm not angry about it. It's just something which happened, long ago. But, recently, I was reading a sad story about how parents had to tell their kids about a terminal diagnosis, and I guess I just had this moment of realisation. That while I'd just accepted never knowing about my father's cancer, that this had been "normal" for me, actually it probably wasn't normal. At all. In fact, it seems quite strange.
But, am I right? How unusual is it for, say, an 8-year-old not to be told about something like this? I don't know, so maybe you can help. Did you have a parent or close relative who died of an illness when you were young, and this was kept from you? How do you feel about that, looking back - can you understand why? Do you regret it? Has it had long-lasting effects?
Or are you a parent who has decided not to tell, or to delay telling your children about a terminal diagnosis? Do you still feel this was the right approach? (I'm starting this thread to hear other people's stories, not judge them, so whatever your situation was, I'm not going to criticise the choices you made.)
I can really relate to your post.
My dad died of lung cancer when I was 7. I didn't even know he was sick, it was easy for my mum to keep the truth from me as we didn't live with my dad - only saw him at weekends,
I remember being told that he had died and that was it, I wasn't allowed to go to to the funeral and I was too young for it to even occur to me to object. I guess my mum wanted to shield me from the reality of cancer at the time, and when I was young, children were kept away from funerals as 'they were to young to understand' certainly that was the general thinking at the time.
I always think of my dad fondly as I have no memories of him being ill but I do wish that I had known what was going on and I wish I had been given the opportunity to say goodbye.
Fortunately, I've never been in this situation but, personally, I would have hated to be told anything like that when I was young. I was told several 'bad' things (nothing to the extent of family being ill, though) and I couldn't deal with it - not even when I was in high school (11+).
I don't think there's a correct way of dealing with such a huge issue. Some kids will cope fine, others like myself wouldn't. It's ultimately your parents who know you best to decide, and whilst I appreciate it would be hard not to have bitterness towards them if they were to keep it from you, I think it'd be unfair to judge them harshly over it.
It's a difficult situation for everyone, and not a decision that should be made lightly either way.
My mum had a close relationship with her grandmother as a child and when she was terminally ill my nan didnt tell her. She wouldnt let my mum visit her near the end and i think my mum was resentful for most of her life that she never got to say goodbye to her nan.
But when my nan was in hospital on the lcp my mum wouldnt let my sister visit her (sister was technically an adult) so i guess it wasnt until then that she understood the reasons why she was kept away from her nan.
I suppose its one of those situations that you dont know how you will react until it happens. My mum was adament if it ever happened she wouldnt stop us from seeing our grandparents but she did.
When my nan was well she had said that if she ever was seriously ill she would let me visit (oldest grandchild) but wouldnt want the others to see her incase it was upsetting. When she was on the lcp she said she didnt want any of us seeing her how she was so i respected her wishes and didnt visit. Everyday i regret that decision and its the only regret i have. I think its easier on the others as they werent allowed to visit but i feel like i should have but didnt.
I don’t think there’s an easy way of deducing whether a child is up to carrying the burden of knowing a parent is seriously ill.
To tell or not to tell is very complicated. Kids tend to pick up information out of the ether – they may not be formally “told” but hanging around out of sight during phone discussions, visits from the doctor, etc, often tends to give them a fairly good idea about what is going on – if they choose to face it.
And part of the difficulty, of course, is the parents themselves may not be choosing to face – or accept - the stark reality. It’s often the case that one or both parents to be in denial and convincing themselves that the prognosis of 12 weeks is likely to be another 12 years. Because doctors are often wrong, aren’t they? Miracles can happen.
Parents have a hell of a lot to be processing themselves so, sadly but understandably, they don’t always tell their children the facts. Or what appear to be the facts on any given day. Perhaps because sitting a child down and telling them makes the situation too real for the parents.
Having seen the distress and confusion first hand that a terminal diagnosis delivers, I would never blame parents for not clearly telling their children (say under the age of 10 but every situation will be different) about a terminal illness. Because then they have to directly manage the children’s understanding and sense of security when perhaps they can barely manage their own. Having told a child, how do you figure out how they're taking it? Might they be coming home from school each evening in great trepidation in case mum (or dad) died while they were at school? It's an enormous thing for childen to assimilate.
Any of you that have lost parents and, with the benefit of an adult’s view of your childhood, blame or even resent your parents for not being clearer with you, be kind to them. It is a confusing, devastating situation for parents to be in, especially when a dying parent knows that they won’t be there for their kids or see how their lives pan out. They know they won’t be there to see the successes, the marriages, the grandchildren... and it’s not their fault and there’s nothing they can do about it.
My parents both died suddenly when I was little. My mum from a brain aneurysm and my dad in an accident. I was 10 when my mum died and though it was sudden, I didn't get to see her until after she died. She first collapsed in the morning and I didn't see her til after midnight. There was a chance for me to say goodbye and (maybe) for her to hear me. I wish I'd been given that. I often try and remember if I told her I loved her last time I saw her alive. I also wasn't taken to the funeral (cremation), but just a small family gathering the next day where we scattered the ashes. I was at my dads funeral when I was 12.
My gran passed last year and my ex was against the idea of our 8 year old being at her burial, *(though not the mass) *but I felt very strongly that he should be there, and he handled it very well. We didn't tell him she was terminally ill as such, but he knew it was cancer and what it can mean. He saw her regularly right up to a couple of days before she passed, (it took longer than expected) and I think he knew himself why he was being taken to see her when she was so ill and being told that it was important to give her a kiss and cuddle and tell her he loved her.*
I suppose each parent knows their child best, but sometimes we don't give them enough credit, or think about the long term. I would definitely tell mine if a parent was dying and make sure they said their goodbyes. It's hard enough without growing up wishing you hadn't had the chance taken away from you, good intentions or not.
My grandad died when I was 7 and I had no idea he was ill.
He had cancer long before I was even born but I knew nothing about it. I just remember watching The Banana Splits on the telly one Saturday morning, leaving the living room to tell my mum and nan the funny joke I'd just heard, and seeing them hugging and crying by the phone in the hall. They shouted at me to go back in the lounge.
For so long I was convinced that somehow it was my fault that he'd died, and that if I'd just stayed watching the telly everything would have been ok. Daft I know, but death's a big thing to comprehend as a kid.
I've been to loads of funerals in my life (I'm now 41) but have still never been to a close family members funeral; even my nan's when I was 26 was deemed to be too upsetting for me. I finally got the chance, a few years ago, to ask in the cemetery where exactly grandad's ashes were placed, and sat quietly under the tree to say goodbye to him. I apologised for not going sooner, and for not being there for him.
I will do things differently with my own daughter.
How can you deemed not capable at 26?
I think 8 is probably a borderline age for attending or not. I think attending a funeral is possibly not so important of itself - it must be more important for the parents to talk to and reassue younger children.
My dad died suddenly in 1974 when I was 16. Myself and my siblings went to the funeral including my younger brother who was 13 at the time.
Before the funeral dad's open coffin was brought into the house so we could all say goodbye to him.
It was the best thing my family could have done for us. It gave us all the chance to say goodbye to dad and although I remember my aunt thinking we would get upset at seeing dad's body, none of us did.
Each one of us said we saw dad sleeping - not a dead body!
When my mum died in 1993 my children, nieces & nephews all attended the funeral, the youngest being 10. Now all grown up they all say it was right to allow them to attend the funeral.
My experience was a positive one albeit a very sad one.
My four year old didn't attend my mother's funeral - my wife was pregnant with our second at the time, so she didn't go either. However, we had a tree planting ceremony several months later, and my wife, son (five by then) and his new brother all came to that. It gave the rest of the family a chance to meet our youngest, and we all had quite a jolly time.
Telling a child about a terminal illness is without doubt a very difficult thing, but it's important for their sake that you remain as positive as possible, even though your own heart may be breaking inside. You do at least get the advantage of being able to break it to them slowly by saying that (beloved relative) is unwell and probably won't get better, rather than having to flat out tell them that somebody's died. Children are also very resilient.
When my father in law died (when my eldest was nearly two), we all went to the funeral service. I sat in the back with the pushchair, ready to wheel my son out if he started making a fuss. He and I went back to my mother in law's house after the service while the rest of them went to the burial. My wife told me after that my son's presence was a great comfort to my mother in law, especially as he smiled and waved to her when she left the church.
Comments
I can really relate to your post.
My dad died of lung cancer when I was 7. I didn't even know he was sick, it was easy for my mum to keep the truth from me as we didn't live with my dad - only saw him at weekends,
I remember being told that he had died and that was it, I wasn't allowed to go to to the funeral and I was too young for it to even occur to me to object. I guess my mum wanted to shield me from the reality of cancer at the time, and when I was young, children were kept away from funerals as 'they were to young to understand' certainly that was the general thinking at the time.
I always think of my dad fondly as I have no memories of him being ill but I do wish that I had known what was going on and I wish I had been given the opportunity to say goodbye.
I don't think there's a correct way of dealing with such a huge issue. Some kids will cope fine, others like myself wouldn't. It's ultimately your parents who know you best to decide, and whilst I appreciate it would be hard not to have bitterness towards them if they were to keep it from you, I think it'd be unfair to judge them harshly over it.
It's a difficult situation for everyone, and not a decision that should be made lightly either way.
But when my nan was in hospital on the lcp my mum wouldnt let my sister visit her (sister was technically an adult) so i guess it wasnt until then that she understood the reasons why she was kept away from her nan.
I suppose its one of those situations that you dont know how you will react until it happens. My mum was adament if it ever happened she wouldnt stop us from seeing our grandparents but she did.
When my nan was well she had said that if she ever was seriously ill she would let me visit (oldest grandchild) but wouldnt want the others to see her incase it was upsetting. When she was on the lcp she said she didnt want any of us seeing her how she was so i respected her wishes and didnt visit. Everyday i regret that decision and its the only regret i have. I think its easier on the others as they werent allowed to visit but i feel like i should have but didnt.
To tell or not to tell is very complicated. Kids tend to pick up information out of the ether – they may not be formally “told” but hanging around out of sight during phone discussions, visits from the doctor, etc, often tends to give them a fairly good idea about what is going on – if they choose to face it.
And part of the difficulty, of course, is the parents themselves may not be choosing to face – or accept - the stark reality. It’s often the case that one or both parents to be in denial and convincing themselves that the prognosis of 12 weeks is likely to be another 12 years. Because doctors are often wrong, aren’t they? Miracles can happen.
Parents have a hell of a lot to be processing themselves so, sadly but understandably, they don’t always tell their children the facts. Or what appear to be the facts on any given day. Perhaps because sitting a child down and telling them makes the situation too real for the parents.
Having seen the distress and confusion first hand that a terminal diagnosis delivers, I would never blame parents for not clearly telling their children (say under the age of 10 but every situation will be different) about a terminal illness. Because then they have to directly manage the children’s understanding and sense of security when perhaps they can barely manage their own. Having told a child, how do you figure out how they're taking it? Might they be coming home from school each evening in great trepidation in case mum (or dad) died while they were at school? It's an enormous thing for childen to assimilate.
Any of you that have lost parents and, with the benefit of an adult’s view of your childhood, blame or even resent your parents for not being clearer with you, be kind to them. It is a confusing, devastating situation for parents to be in, especially when a dying parent knows that they won’t be there for their kids or see how their lives pan out. They know they won’t be there to see the successes, the marriages, the grandchildren... and it’s not their fault and there’s nothing they can do about it.
My gran passed last year and my ex was against the idea of our 8 year old being at her burial, *(though not the mass) *but I felt very strongly that he should be there, and he handled it very well. We didn't tell him she was terminally ill as such, but he knew it was cancer and what it can mean. He saw her regularly right up to a couple of days before she passed, (it took longer than expected) and I think he knew himself why he was being taken to see her when she was so ill and being told that it was important to give her a kiss and cuddle and tell her he loved her.*
I suppose each parent knows their child best, but sometimes we don't give them enough credit, or think about the long term. I would definitely tell mine if a parent was dying and make sure they said their goodbyes. It's hard enough without growing up wishing you hadn't had the chance taken away from you, good intentions or not.
How can you deemed not capable at 26?
I think 8 is probably a borderline age for attending or not. I think attending a funeral is possibly not so important of itself - it must be more important for the parents to talk to and reassue younger children.
Before the funeral dad's open coffin was brought into the house so we could all say goodbye to him.
It was the best thing my family could have done for us. It gave us all the chance to say goodbye to dad and although I remember my aunt thinking we would get upset at seeing dad's body, none of us did.
Each one of us said we saw dad sleeping - not a dead body!
When my mum died in 1993 my children, nieces & nephews all attended the funeral, the youngest being 10. Now all grown up they all say it was right to allow them to attend the funeral.
My experience was a positive one albeit a very sad one.
Telling a child about a terminal illness is without doubt a very difficult thing, but it's important for their sake that you remain as positive as possible, even though your own heart may be breaking inside. You do at least get the advantage of being able to break it to them slowly by saying that (beloved relative) is unwell and probably won't get better, rather than having to flat out tell them that somebody's died. Children are also very resilient.
When my father in law died (when my eldest was nearly two), we all went to the funeral service. I sat in the back with the pushchair, ready to wheel my son out if he started making a fuss. He and I went back to my mother in law's house after the service while the rest of them went to the burial. My wife told me after that my son's presence was a great comfort to my mother in law, especially as he smiled and waved to her when she left the church.