Cover Story
SAYING GOODBYE from page 26
that was. When children get older, they
will be more emotionally prepared for
the details of tragedy.
didn't know he was more than a build-
ing, more than a chapel. They didn't
know the vibrant man who started a
business from scratch and became a
community leader."
Then they sat in on a meeting with
the rabbi before Ira Kaufman's funeral.
"His grandkids still talk about listening
to that," and they tell their children,
and they will tell their children, Techner
said.
Keep It Simple
TA-1 Lynch is director of Lynch and
Sons Funeral Home in Milford. He and
his brother followed in their father's
professional footsteps, and so for many
years the family name has been identi-
fied with the business.
Everybody knows that Tom Lynch is
a funeral director or, in the words of
one mother, who pointed Lynch out to
her young daughter: "There's that nice
man who buried your grandmother."
Lynch says children are not looking
for long theological discussions or exten-
sive details about the afterlife and funer-
al procedures when they ask about
death. "They want the simple things."
It's like when a boy asks, "Where do I
come from?" Lynch explains. Parents
may get that panicked look, that I-bet-
ter-go-to-the-library-and-get-a-book-
now look. When in reality all the boy
needs to hear is, "You were born in
Toledo."
Similarly, when children ask to partic-
ipate in a funeral, they will leave with a
basic understanding: The dead and the
living are moving on to a new reality,
Lynch says.
"When they go from the synagogue
or the church or the funeral home and
they see the hole in the ground, they get
that. What they don't get is when
grandpa or grandma disappears, then
everyone gets together [for a memorial
service or shivah] and the dead person
isn't there."
Parents' first instinct often is to"com-
plicate," Lynch says. "That should be
resisted." Answer "yes" or "no" or -
"maybe" or "I don't know" — "all the
things you use for the really big ques-
tions."
Lynch uses "I don't know" because he
doesn't know, he says. Children will ask,
"Why did my sister get hit by a car and
die?"
What is the sense in lying? Lynch
asks. The only answer is that we don't
know. "If I did know, they'd rename me
God."
Another good answer: "I wonder."
Consider the biblical story of Job. "Job's
faith never wavered, but he was full of
wonder," Lynch says. "An article of faith
includes that aspect of wonder."
Lynch is always impressed whenhe
sees parents answering a child's difficult
question with, "Let's pray about it."
Children, like adults, may feel frus-
trated because they see with death that
something is wrong and it can't be
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2004
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David Techner
Rabbi Harold Loss
changed, it can't be fixed.
"If we can pray, that gives them a job,
a duty It gives children a sense of hav-
ing done something." It connects them
to God.
Death, he adds, "requires us to affirm
our faith, but not to be theologians." At
some point, we "realize that we're no
longer in charge. God is."
We're mistaken if we believe that chil-
dren will be harmed by the idea that
death is inevitable, Lynch says. They
already have an understanding that life
is not forever.
"Children know what's going on," he
says. "An awareness of mortality doesn't
make children 'less innocent.'" We
sometimes teach our kids to make death
strange, when in reality "people come
with knowledge of our own mortality.
The kernel of our own undoing is built
into us, and kids sense this."
"Children have a full emotional regis-
ter," he adds. "They laugh and cry, they
weep and dance." By including them in
the passing of life, "we are affirming in
them their humanity."
Who Was Grandpa?
Even parents who have spoken openly
about death may hesitate when it comes
time to letting their child participate in
a funeral. Techner's advice: Let children
do what they ask to do.
"Some people say, 'I've decided to
bring my children to the chapel, but not
to the cemetery [for the funeral]:
That's like feeding someone hors d'oeu-
vres, but not the dinner."
If children ask to go to the funeral, it's
important they go, Techner says. "They
need to answer their curiosity.
Otherwise, they'll worry, 'Why couldn't
I go? What was so terrible that I could-
n't be there?'"
Be objective when posing the funeral
question to children, Techner adds.
"One woman called and insisted her
7-year-old said she would never attend
the funeral of her grandfather." Techner
asked .why. The woman said she had
explained to her daughter how dreadful
Thomas Lynch
the experience would be, that her grand-
mother would be hysterical and the
mother would be crying endlessly,
unable to cope.
"Of course, after hearing that, the
child didn't want to go."
Techner's own childhood experiences
— with his grandfather and with a
friend named Marcy — taught him a
great deal.
"My grandfather died when I was 9. I
never knew how sick he was. I just came
home one day and my parents were sit-
ting shivah.
"There was no funeral director back
then who asked about the grandchil-
dren," he says. Their names weren't even
listed on the obituaries; it was simply,
"Survived by 10 grandchildren."
Another incident occurred when
Techner was 16.
"I had a friend whose mother died of
cancer. I wanted to go to the funeral.
My mother said no. But I really felt like
I needed to be at the funeral."
So he skipped school. The school
called home.
"I got grounded, but I always felt very
proud of the fact it was in me to say to
my mother, 'You may not be comfort-
able with this, but I am.' Marcy was my
friend, and I needed to be there for her."
But the most critical moment may
not even be the funeral, but when the
family meets with the rabbi to provide
background information for the eulogy
"That's when your child can learn so
much," Techner said. "How many 6-
year-olds know how their grandparents
met? There's a history that becomes so
meaningful. It can even be a fun time
when people get together and talk.
`As a child, you know your grand-
mother is the person who plants lipstick
on your cheek. But where was she from?
History is invaluable information.
"When [my grandfather-in-law] Ira
Kaufman died, his grandkids knew him
as an older man in a wheelchair. They
didn't know how he had brought his
family over during the Holocaust, which
is the only reason they survived. They
A Man Named Joe
For the past 18 years, death has been a
part of Cindy Cohen's life.
She has been working as a child-life
specialist and guest speaker, helping
adults and children deal with illness and
end-of-life situations.
Sometimes, Cohen of West
Bloomfield enters the family's life early
on, when a parent or child has been .
diagnosed with a life-threatening dis-
ease. Other times, she comes to them in
last moments, when a loved one has
been injured in an accident and life is
now just breaths away from ending.
Unlike so many health-care profes-
sionals who say they have to take a
"detached perspective" when dealing
with tragedy, Cohen readily admits each
case hurts her heart.
"I don't think you can detach yourself
from something like this," she says. And
unless it negatively affects his/her life,
why shouldn't a physician or nurse or
counselor hurt with the family?
"You enter their existence at a very
sacred time of life," says Cohen, who
often stays in contact with families for
years after she works with them. "You
become like a second family."
And when their loved one dies, "you
grieve along with the family, especially
when it's a child."
Those deaths that involve children,
whether they are facing their own or
that of a parent of sibling, are the most
difficult.
Like David Techner, Cohen believes
the first step is telling the truth: A
brother is not "going away;" he is dying.
A mother is not "off for a long visit to
another, better place;" she will not come
back.
Yet there is eternity woven throughout
life, Cohen tells families. Loved ones do
continue "in our hearts and in our
minds."
This is why Cohen advises families
facing , terminal illness to engage in
‘`memory activities." These can include
anything from making a hand mold of a
dying child to making a photo album to
chart his life. Tangible things — what
you can hold in your hand — help keep
SAYING GOODBYE on page 28