As I settle into bed with my three youngest children, we gather around the iPad to explore together. My partner is on a flight from Northern Virginia to visit his brother in California—a significant trip for us, given his role as a teacher and rare travel schedule. As we open the map of the United States, my children express awe at the distance; it’s fascinating to them that a five-hour flight or nearly 39 hours of driving separates us from their uncle.
Next, we transition to a world map, where I highlight the United States’ relatively small size. Although we’ve examined maps before, their enthusiasm makes it feel new. I point to London, where their Uncle resides.
“Wow, that’s so far,” my eight-year-old son, Max, exclaims.
Then, my nearly six-year-old daughter, Lily, asks, “But where is Grandpa on here?”
My heart sinks as I remember it’s been four months and 14 days since we lost him.
“Grandpa is in heaven,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel. I brace myself for the inevitable follow-up question, knowing I’ve prepared them as best I could. I’ve read age-appropriate books, cried with them, provided photos for remembrance, and involved them in memorial services. I believed we had navigated this topic. But how can a child fully grasp a concept that even adults struggle with?
“Where is heaven on the map?” she asks, her curiosity genuine.
Interestingly, Max, who usually has a response ready, remains silent—he too seeks clarity on their grandfather’s whereabouts.
“Well, sweetie, heaven isn’t a place you can pinpoint on a map,” I explain. “No one alive really knows what it’s like. Many believe it’s a beautiful realm where our spirits continue and where we can reunite with those we love.”
They both listen intently, processing my words. Suddenly, my three-year-old jumps onto the iPad, demanding to watch a cartoon, and I’m momentarily relieved for the distraction.
The topic is dropped for the moment, and I give them ten more minutes of screen time before bed. As they rush off to their rooms, I linger, gazing at the map. I can’t help but wish there was an app that could let us see our loved ones again, to help explain what it truly means to say goodbye. To learn how to cope with the void left behind. To guide me in knowing if I’m offering the right words.
Parenting through grief is challenging. It’s easier to pretend my children have moved past their loss, which might explain my reluctance to bring up Grandpa recently. Instead of asking about the location of Disney World, they posed the significant question of where to find heaven. I did my best to answer, but deep down, I wished I could find heaven on that map, if only to see my loved ones, waiting in peace.
If I were a more skilled writer, I might create a guide on “Five Ways to Comfort Children After Losing a Grandparent” or “How to Support Kids Following a Parent’s Death.” However, I find myself at a loss. The truth is, no one has all the answers. We simply do our best, navigating parenting as we go.
Moving forward, I will strive to acknowledge my children’s feelings and cherish the memory of their Grandpa. I will hold onto hope and trust that while I may not be able to locate heaven on a map, we will eventually discover it. I will do this for them and for myself.
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In summary, navigating grief while parenting brings unique challenges, especially when young children seek clarity on complex emotions. It is essential to foster open communication and acknowledge their feelings while cherishing memories of loved ones lost.