This sweet girl of mine. I hate that kids have to learn that life really sucks sometimes. A few weeks ago our next door neighbors, a retired couple, were involved in a horrific car accident. The husband and their adult daughter (who also lives in our neighborhood) were killed. By a miracle (if you saw the pictures you'd know what a miracle it truly was) the wife survived with 5 broken ribs. We've been neighbors with them for about 2 years. We recently had them over for brunch and chatted often, usually about the weather, yard work, or his work with the Apollo space launch. He talked to the boys whenever he saw them in their Boy Scout uniforms. He let Sophie cross back and forth through their backyard to get to her friend's house. When I told the kids about the accident they each reacted in their own way: Oliver quietly went to his room, Aidan didn't say much, but Sophie grabbed on to me and sobbed loudly. That almost broke me.
Today, just before I put her to bed, she told me she had found the book "Tear Soup" on the shelf and had tried to read it but had to stop because it was so sad and the pictures were sad and she didn't really understand it. I promised that tomorrow we could read it together if she wanted and talk about it. She agreed.
So, I'm bracing myself for what might be a hard conversation, but could also be a beautiful moment. She's already brainstorming something nice to do for our dear sweet neighbor ("do you think she likes chocolate?"). And I suspect Oliver will listen in, too. How do you help kids deal with grief?
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