For the last year, our four-year-old has been trying to understand her baby brother’s death. It has actually been two years, this week, since his unexpected death. Unfortunately, her parents were unable to seek counseling during that first traumatic year. Their own grief and guilt prevented them from reaching out to others, for themselves, or for their daughter. Ali was two then, almost three. Her immature questions were met with tears of grief and pain.

I know, because I was there. They called me in the middle of the night and I rushed to hold them in their grief. I helped to plan the funeral with my pastor because they had none. Our church had been their daughter’s church for the previous year as well. Our pastor tried to see them for several weeks after he presided over the funeral. Our congregation took them meals and we begged them to come and join us. They just could not reach out.

I had only known them for the year that I had parented their daughter before the birth of their son. They kept coming to visit after Ali returned home, bringing their newborn son with them. Ali’s parents are the same age as my two oldest children so I treated them like my children. I began to think of their children as my grandchildren. He was a happy little guy, always laughing and smiling.

When Ali came back to live with us a year ago, she told us, and everyone she met, that she had killed her baby brother. She had a story that she told frequently, about jumping off the table and landing on him. I had her in counseling within two weeks of returning to foster care. I also talked openly with her and finally convinced her that she did not kill her brother.

She still cries for him sometimes. She plays childish games that sometimes include him. She is just trying to make sense of it all, the best way a four-year-old can. She tried to ask her mom some questions a few weeks ago about him. She still can’t answer her or talk about him. Unfortunately, her pain is also preventing her from parenting her daughter. Pray for her if you can, her pain is unbearable.

Photo Credit
Uploaded on March 25, 2007 by iessi
Creative commons