Salutiamo il nonno? Si. Ciao nonno. Ciao nonna.
This morning, I read an essay written by an Italian pediatrician and epidemiologist, Dr. Giorgio Tamburlini on how to talk to children about the death of their grandparents. My children are blessed to have both sets of their grandparents with them. My heart goes out to all the grandchildren who have lost their grandparents due to the pandemic. For parents who are trying to come to terms with not only the pain of losing their own parents but also struggling to talk to their children about the death of their grandparents, I hope you will find comforts in Dr. Giorgio’s words below:
Ciao Grandfather, Ciao Grandmother-
As of this writing, we are at 10,000 victims of the epidemic, not counting the uncounted. The overwhelming majority of them are grandparents, and some great-grandparents. In this overwhelming majority, many departed alone, without the gaze or the hand of a family member, instead with at most that of a nurse or doctor. Most of the time, they were already sedated. It hurts a lot to think about that. And for every grandfather or grandmother who leaves, there is a grandchild or more grandchildren who no longer have grandparents. But do they know that, did they know it when it happened? And how? There are no ceremonies, no funeral, no visits to the mortuary—not even a chance to pay respects to someone, to acknowledge those who have disappeared. What words did the grandchildren hear? Who spoke them? With what force, with what emphasis?
We have been hiding death for decades, driven it out into the dark forest, exorcised it, like something we can't talk about. We told more or less plausible stories, sometimes no story at all, to explain the disappearance of a relative or friend to our children. The celebration of death has coincided for millennia with the highest expressions of human civilization. Saying farewell to the deceased created languages, religions, music, arts, artifacts that still remain, for people today who visit them admiringly. But death, the supreme passage that inspired all this, has disappeared. Today it is relegated to screens, video games; it is dehumanized. It is often hidden from children: I don't want him to be upset; I do not know what to say; let's talk about it when they’re older.
Understandable. But it’s important to talk to children. If they don't ask us questions, they will ask themselves. Often, they blame themselves for what happened. They load themselves up with burdens, and suffer the effects of carrying them. Of course, how a child understands death depends on the age of the child: at the beginning it may be understood as a journey, a sleep, in short, a reversible thing. Then, over the years, the child begins to understand that it is irreversible. The child comes to understand that death is definitive, that people go away and do not return.
Talking about death with children was already arduous. Now, in the epidemic, it has become even more so. How to talk about it in circumstances where the body, or its symbols, or its ceremonies are missing? But you have to do it, you have to find a way, you have to create some ceremony, to be able to salute and honor those who die, and then remember them. It is difficult, it is complicated, but even so, we have to find the words. And then the signs, the symbols, the objects, the sounds, to remember. And then, when everything has calmed down, we will also find places.
We need death, and its celebration, we the big ones, the grownups, as much the little ones. The presence of death is necessary for life, to give it shape, meaning, direction.
Shall we salute our grandparents? Yes. Ciao grandfather. Ciao grandmother.
Giorgio Tamburlini, Centro per la Salute del Bambino, Trieste, 2 April 2020