Tantrums and Meltdowns and Grief

"She's having the tantrum you want to have."  This is the response of a grief specialist to parents who are trying to understand their preschooler's erratic behavior after a late-term miscarriage.  A death that they were grieving and coming to terms with as well as learning how to talk about with their living child.

This story is part an essay about children and grief in the book When Kids Ask Hard Questions: Faith Filled Answers for Tough Topics.*  I've been dipping in and out of this book for awhile, on topics ranging from bodies to money to race to relationships and a lot of ground in between.  I haven't finished it yet but the section on loss just seemed like the right thing to read after a long day and wakeful night.  A day and night after which I felt deeply the opening phrase.  Cause, yeah, I sure feel like hitting and screaming and I've done my share of crying.

There have been many times in the past couple of months (we're coming up on months already!) when I have watched my child melt down, and wanted to respond with empathy but could only offer my version of the tantrum which is to snap, or yell or issue an ultimatum.  And there have been times when I have been able to hold him and listen and take deep breaths together and move through it.  I can see how little control he has over anything - even less than usual - and how small his world has become.  He's grieving.  We all are.

"She's having the temper tantrum you want to have," we both took deep breaths. She was so right, and we had missed it.  Through her clinginess, outbursts, tears and emotion our daughter was exposing the emotional instability within out entire family. We all wanted to scream, we each needed to hold tight to one another in the middle of the night, and we - individually and collectively - felt compelled to cry out to anyone who would listen that life simply was not fair." 

The authors of the essays in this book are about the loss of people in their lives. Loss of a parent or spouse is a traumatic event for a family and it's not like what we're experiencing in this time of pandemic.  But we are experiencing loss: loss of friends, loss of activities we love, loss of control, expectation and hope.  And even if our children aren't feeling all those losses for themselves, they certainly can sense their parents and other adult's grief and anxiety.

Even though these essays were about grieving the loss of persons, there were a few pearls I found helpful.  Top of the heap was, it's okay to show your kids that you're grieving and to talk about why.  And the companion to this is to make sure you're taking care of yourself and your own emotions, have someone to talk to and process your own feelings.  That processing (not with your child!) might also help give you the language that will develop your child's vocabulary of emotions, which both they and you need to be able to communicate what you're feeling.

There are probably scores of books out there that deal with kids and loss - I actually have several picture books on my shelf - but I found it helpful the specifically faith-oriented way that I was continually reassured of that God's love endures.  That God too grieves with us.  That faith doesn't demand that we put on a happy face.  Thank God!

Parents, friends to children, you're doing a great job! Even when you feel like you're not.  This is a hard thing that we're doing.  Keep breathing and know your belovedness, your children's belovedness.  We're in it together somehow.
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* Handily, when I went to the link above for the book, I found out it's currently on sale. Just sayin' :)

Wash Your Hands...And Someone Else's Feet

God knows, by now it has been drilled into us how important it is to wash our hands so we can protect ourselves and our neighbors from spreading disease. Hand washing is almost a religion unto itself, what with the regularity of practice and the accompanying singing. We haven't given our feet much thought, though. Except, in my case, to mourn the sad state of my pedicure.

Over the last couple years, one of my favorite services at SMC has been the Maundy Thursday meal and footwashing service. I have always loved footwashing since my time worshiping in the Evangelical Mennonite Church in Manitoba, where it's practiced somewhat more regularly than in other Mennonite denominations. It's a tactile time of worship that allows us to engage the story of Jesus and our commitment to service and to each other with our bodies. It is an intimate and caring act that we can do for each other in community. (One of my favorite reflections on Maundy Thursday here.)

At SMC it has been special because particularly in recent years we have been intentional in making it simple and accessible to families with kids, which also has meant that as a leader I've been able to participate with my own kids, and that it's been okay to be a little less formal and a little more loose.

I don't think that this informality has made it any less meaningful. Certainly not for me and definitely not for the smallest person in my life. Regularly - maybe once a month - since last Maundy Thursday that person has asked whether it's footwashing time. It never is, of course, until now. But now we won't be able to gather with our friends to serve each other in this way. It is a real sadness for me.

That is why I wanted to create a liturgy - still as simple and accessible as possible - for families like mine to practice at home. Options for a family of one to as many as are in your household, reading the story or reflecting on an image. Even washing hands if feet aren't your thing. I am comforted by the knowledge that even in our separate places we'll be sharing something of this day of loving service.

You can access the liturgy at the google doc if you want to give it a try.  We won't be with our church this year, but in the meantime here is a picture from last year that still delights me and makes me tear up a little.

Back to Our Senses

This morning on the podcast "Seattle Now" education reporter Ann Dornfeld talked to several parents who were trying to figure out the balance of getting their own jobs done and caring for and educating their kids. There was a great variety of experiences but needless to say everyone is feeling stretched and unfocussed. And some are finding some bright spots in time spent with family in new ways.

My bright spot in what has been a stressful time of sharing a relatively small home in which both of the adults are trying to still do our jobs full time, including connecting through online meetings which require attention and focus, has been walks. We're all going on a lot of walks. And walks can start feeling monotonous too, even in this beautiful city and especially for kids and teens who would rather be at a playground or hanging out with friends.

When I can go for a walk my myself I will often listen to music or podcasts or books. Obviously not possible when you're walking with others. So I've found a couple of the things have made walks a little more interesting when we're walking together. The first is scavenger hunts (this one is especially for the little one, who loves to check things off of a list) that I've found online or created - with pictures for non-readers. I thank my mother, the retired teacher, for turning us onto this suggestion. Orie has started making his own scavenger hunts to bring on walks, which is great because that's one less thing I have to prepare.

The second is a mindfulness practice that you may have seen if you follow me on Instagram (@amymarieepp). It's a practice that invites you to pay attention to the moment and your body. And it works great at any age. When I feel like I've been focusing to hard on something or I've been staring at a screen too long, or my mind is racing, or my body is tense, this is a great way to slow down and check in with myself. On a walk, it's a way to notice both our bodies and our surroundings.

Take a few deep breaths. Now notice with your senses. Identify the following:

• 5 things you can see
• 4 things you can hear
• 3 things you can feel
• 2 things you can smell
• 1 thing you can taste.

On the walk with my kids yesterday we were seeing things like flowering trees, clouds in the sky and neighborhood cats. Hearing the birds, the crunch of our feet and the wind. We felt the drops of chill of the air and bent down to feel the rain on the grass. We smelled the someone cooking and thought we could take how fresh the air was. It did almost turn into a competition of who can name things first, but overall it was a lovely practice and turned into an eye-spy like game of noticing and naming other things we saw and heard on our way.

Some of y'all may be experiencing this time as slower and more spacious, but many of us are doing double duty. Nurturing ourselves and the ones we care for is hard! I thank God for gift of moments that bring us back to our senses and allow us to experience the moment and each other. 

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images: (top) a forsythia in a neighbor's yard; (above) scavenger hunt in action