Belonging to Each Other: Supporting Young People in the Midst of Loss

Ashley-Anne Masters 

We declare in A Brief Statement of Faith, “In life and in death we belong to God.” In life, in death, and in every moment between, until our baptisms are complete, we also belong to each other. To support each other and to grieve together as a community is a faithful way to fulfill our baptismal vows to one another.

Death is inevitable for all of us, yet we cling to the promise that death will never have the final word. As Easter people, we hope against hope in the power of the resurrection, and we pray for stones to be rolled away from the tombs of our lives. Amid our own grief, may we have the courage to be as vulnerable and authentic as possible when speaking to children and young people about the sting of death. May we be appropriately honest about the disorientation of trauma, the weight of an alarming medical diagnosis, and the lifelong work of healthy grieving. 

I hope that this article offers helpful guidance as you accompany children and young people in grief. If I have learned anything in my career as a hospital chaplain and campus minister, it is that we will all say the wrong thing at times. Even those of us who are considered experts sometimes leave the bedside of a dying beloved child of God and immediately wish we had said something differently. Supporting children and young people through grief is not about perfection. Rather, it is about truth telling, consistency, and presence.

None of us knows why bad things happen to good people. And none of us knows exactly what happens when we die. What we do profess is that God is God, God is love, and God’s is the first heart to break when something terrible happens. We recognize that God knows the excruciating pain of the death of a child. We trust God to comfort us in our grief, and we trust the Spirit to give us comforting words to speak to each other when our own words fall short. 

Talking with Children about Death and Grief 

While it may feel daunting to consider discussing death and grief with children, often they are already somewhat familiar with death as a concept, even if they do not truly comprehend it. Events of death are included in many shows and movies made for children: The Lion King, Bambi, The Fox and the Hound, Up, Frozen, Finding Nemo, Toy Story 3, and many other shows and cartoons. 

Some children may have heard about death for the first time because a friend or teacher had a death in their immediate family. Others may have heard about someone dying during the announcements or prayers of the people in a worship service. Or they may have heard about death from news sources or podcasts while in the car with a family member or caregiver. Death is part of life, and it is important to model that death is painful at any age. Death can be scary, and we can validate this feeling while also teaching children God’s promise that death is not the end of our stories in God’s kin-dom. 

Through transparent conversations about death and grief, we have the opportunity to offer children lifelong tools and resources to best express their feelings to family members, friends, counselors, and to God. We have the opportunity to normalize that all feelings are valid. We have the opportunity to teach them that while there are different stages of grief, grief is fluid, not linear. Perhaps most importantly, we have the privilege of modeling that anger is part of grief. 

When I was a teenager, I learned one of the most liberating grief lessons when my mom was diagnosed with Stage IV breast cancer. I was scared she was going to die and very angry that God did not immediately cure her cancer when I begged God to heal her. One of the times I was having a teenage angst rant about cancer, Mom told me it was alright to be angry because God can handle our anger. It was the permission I needed to practice lament. I found such empathetic power in reading the laments of others in Scripture, poetry, and song. The freedom to be angry and the permission to lament are lifelong gifts that continue to buoy me in my grief journeys as an adult. We are never too young to learn healthy outlets for anger.

During conversations with children about death and grief, it is important to share as much data as is age appropriate. It is necessary to use a vernacular they will understand while remaining as truthful as possible. Depending on the circumstances of an immediate family member’s death, hospital or Hospice chaplains, social workers, and child life specialists are incredible resources to help a family navigate death and grief. 

Last year, I attended the memorial service of a young mother who died by suicide. I was in awe of the insistence of her siblings that the reality of her mental illness be included in the service alongside countless memories of her kindness and her many talents as a musician. They included a hauntingly beautiful liturgy about suicide. All children present, including her own, witnessed adults telling them the truth and weeping from their shattered hearts in a house of worship. While there is much none of us will ever understand, years from now her child and her nieces and nephews will not have to wonder why adults did not tell them the truth at the time. The family consulted many resources before telling the children in her life and relied on clergy to help them develop language for the service. It was one of the most beautiful and authentic services of witness to the resurrection I have ever seen.

While the circumstances of each death are unique, one caution remains: It is imperative to use the words “They died” instead of “They went to sleep.” As a clinical chaplain, I worked with many families who, out of compassion, tried to ease the pain and trauma of the news by telling children their loved one went to sleep. Some of those children were then afraid to go to sleep or were afraid when others went to sleep. The same is true when pets die, as it is common to hear language like “put to sleep” or “put down,” yet children often interpret this literally. Similarly, it is also important to avoid language like “We lost your Mimi.” I worked with a family who used this language about the death of a grandparent, and the child responded, “We have to go find her!” As painful as it is to name the finality of death, using accurate, honest language can help children process it. It is understandable for anyone to feel fear in the face of death, but children should not be afraid that their loved ones may die while playing hide-and-seek or going to sleep.

Be assured that you are never alone as you seek the appropriate vernacular for speaking with children about death and grief. The pastors, educators, medical staff, teachers, and counselors in your midst are invaluable resources to support you. Most importantly, caregivers and parents, remember that while others may be considered experts in grief education, you know your child. Always trust your God-given intuition. 

Discussing Death and Grief with Young People

As a campus minister, one of the most profound conversations I have had with college students occurred at a gathering to process the event of a shooting at a nearby university. All of us had been on lockdown earlier that day and had texted at least one person during that time. Some texted their parents. Two texted lifelong best friends. I texted students who are my friends’ children. A colleague received a text from their spouse saying they were safely hidden under their office desk. During our processing of the event, it became evident that it was not the first time many of us had texted with someone while in lockdown during a violent event. It was not the first time we had been scared for the safety of others and not the first time we gathered to debrief a traumatic event. It was not the last time, either. During that conversation I recognized the familiarity the students had with these kinds of events.

Near the close of our gathering, a student asked me if I knew what to do in the event of a campus lockdown. I admitted that as a child and young person, I never experienced a lockdown drill because Columbine was the only school shooting I knew of when I was their age. Students offered to show me best practices in the event of a lockdown. “We have done lockdown drills forever,” they said. “We need to be sure you are safe since you are older than us.” 

While I am indeed older than my students, I am only one generation removed, and their world looks nothing like my world did at their age. I was their age on September 11, 2001. They were born into a post-September-11th world, and they have spent their young lives all too familiar with the threat of violence. They do not know a world without school or mass shootings. My current first-year students are the same age as the victims of the Sandy Hook shooting would be if they were alive today.

As they explained what I should do during a lockdown, one reminded me to always keep my phone charged and have a portable charger ready. While this is excellent practical advice, it points to a feeling that violence and trauma is an ever-present threat. I found myself wishing for a world where they never had to acquire this practical knowledge and never had to teach older generations about it. I grieve that this is their reality, and I am in awe of their compassion for others in spite of it. They care deeply that others know how to stay safe as they prepare themselves to text “I love you” to their people during lockdowns. They care deeply that one day there will be no preventable deaths by guns.

They know far too well what it is like to live with grief. For in addition to growing up amid mass shootings, some also know the fatigue of living with mental illnesses, the disorientation of their parents’ divorce, the pain of bullying, the fear of being authentic about their sexuality, the weight of cancer, the pain of food and housing insecurity, and the chaos of the COVID pandemic. They know grief, pain, fear, and uncertainty.¹ 

Church communities, youth programs, and campus ministries have a responsibility to be the beloved community for young people and to help them hold space for anything too daunting to process on their own. Thankfully, as a whole, Gen Z did not inherit a stigma around mental health issues as previous generations did. In my experience, students have been quick to seek help, even if their guardians or parents may not fully support going to therapy. They often reach out to counselors on campus or ask me for referrals to counselors I trust based on their specific concerns. I have found mental health professionals, social workers, and counselors to be invaluable colleagues in supporting the young people entrusted to our care. As the saying goes, it does indeed “take a village” at all ages and developmental stages. 

A few years ago, many students in my campus community faced significant mental health challenges. Several students’ struggles with mental illness on campus tragically ended in death by suicide, and it was gut-wrenching to watch students grieve their peers. They shared how scary it was to walk past police presence and caution tape at their dorm. Students were aware of other deaths by suicide, but many had never seen a crime scene in their immediate environment. 

We had multiple options for processing these events in our student center during that time. One night we listened to the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack² as everyone hunkered down together. Our campus ministry group attended the Broadway play when it was touring near us. It is a coming-of-age story about a teenager who lives with anxiety and depression. The experience of the play gave us a shared vernacular to speak together about death by suicide through the lens of the play’s plot, and many shared it with friends who struggle with depression, anxiety, or are victims of bullying. It is an incredible work of art and a powerful way to engage in heavy conversations. 

It is vital to model authentic grief and vulnerable processing with teens and college-aged students. It matters that we approach young people with faithful presence and make space for them to gather to grieve as a community, no matter how raw or messy it is. It matters that they know their faith communities can handle their questions and fears. It matters that they know how to lament, that they do not feel alone when they pray “How long, O Lord?” and ask God “Why?” When appropriate, we can share our own grief as a way to provide empathy and support. Several students in our group have experienced the death of a parent, and we have started what we call Dead Parent Club, in which we share meals on the anniversary of a parent’s death, on a parent’s birthday, or on the harder days. While we were all different ages when we buried a parent, empathy transcends generations and we share in common the ache of missing them. 

It is also important to remind young people again and again that they are never alone and are so very loved. It matters that they have adults they may text or call in any situation. At the beginning of each school year, I ask students to make a list of five adults they know they could contact anytime for anything. I encourage them to remember and utilize that list when they feel overwhelmed and alone. 

If you are considering how to hold and create space for young people to grieve, I hope the following may be helpful to you. 

At debrief gatherings after traumatic events, I offer sheets of newsprint with various prompts for short-answer responses and a variety of supplies for writing or making art, including sidewalk chalk, paints, canvas, candles, kinetic sand, coloring books, markers, prayer journals, and dissolvable paper. I have invited students to write confessions or laments on dissolvable paper and place them in a bowl of water as we watch them disintegrate. Sometimes we write or draw something that represents what makes us angry, then build a bonfire outside and throw the paper into the flames. Rituals like these can be quite therapeutic and powerful. It also grants me the opportunity to listen and discern what the most helpful next steps may be. 

When there are student deaths on campus, our ecumenical campus faith leaders group responds by being present outside our gathering space or somewhere on campus with notes of encouragement and snacks. We are consistently surprised by students’ responses to our act of hospitality. Recently, a student said, “You are really just here to be nice and boost morale? That is a thing people do?” Another said, “You are just offering love because things seem terrible?” We have the privilege of witnessing firsthand the significant power of showing up and being present when the community is in pain. It feels more vital than ever. While I hope our practices of holding space are helpful, you know the needs of your own context and community. Ultimately, my best advice is to collaborate with others who are committed to consistently showing up for love, health, peace, and hope. 

Including Children and Young People in Funeral Planning and Rituals 

These are ideas families have found to be meaningful. I encourage you to utilize and adapt them as necessary based on age appropriateness, given what is best for your loved ones and your community. 

Invite children and youth to draw a picture or write a letter to their loved one to be buried with them. Often children wish to bury a pet with a favorite toy. In cases of the death of a sibling, often children find it meaningful to choose a stuffed animal or favorite object to be buried with them. For graveside services, the funeral home staff will be able to assist you by placing anything you give them with the deceased. In cases where there is a viewing of an open casket, children may find it helpful to see their drawing, letter, or object with the deceased. If the deceased is cremated, funeral home staff will be able to assist you by placing a drawing, letter, or small object in the columbarium space with the cremains. 

Invite children and youth to help choose photos that will be on display at the funeral or gatherings. While you choose photos together, ask them what they love about certain photos or what they remember about that memory with their loved one. 

Invite children and youth to share ideas for Scriptures, poems, and music to be included at the service or associated gatherings. Often it is best to have a private conversation about this before the officiant meets with the family to create the order of worship and generate information for the bulletin. Whether or not they wish to participate, they will have the memory of being included. 

Invite children and youth into the conversation about favorite colors or something unique that their loved one would have liked to see everyone wearing at their memorial service. I recently attended the funeral of a young parent in their thirties who died suddenly. In the obituary, the family requested that everyone wear Crocs, bright colors, and their favorite hat since he would have loved to see that. 

I officiated the memorial service of a teenager who died from cancer, and she made sure to give her mom and me specific instructions as to funeral attire, music, and how she wanted the funeral home to be decorated. She was an artist and requested that her art be displayed alongside photos of her friends on both sides of the hallway that led to the viewing room for her casket. 

One time a grandchild wanted to wear his favorite baseball jersey and bring a baseball and glove with him to the service, because his grandfather taught him how to play and regularly took him to games. In all of these cases, it was beautiful to see how the community grieved together in a way that felt very authentic to those who died. Additionally, the inclusion of such elements may offer respectful levity amid the more formal components of services and gatherings. 

Invite children and youth to be present at as much as they would like during the visitation, funeral and graveside services. Give them information ahead of time as to what they may expect to see, hear, and do. Try to prepare them for it as much as possible, especially if there will be an open casket. Then, give them the choice to be as present as they feel they can be. With young children, it is helpful to have a designated adult who is able to leave with them if they do not wish to stay at the service any longer. With youth, it is often helpful to encourage them to sit together with friends if it is the funeral for a peer or plan a gathering for peers after the service at a place that was important to the deceased.

Invite children and youth to join when you visit the columbarium, gravesite, or other designated place of remembrance. Invite them to bring something with them such as a plant, card, flowers, or meaningful object to leave there for a time. If the deceased is cremated, it is possible to save some of the ashes before burying the majority of the cremains. I have found it quite meaningful to scatter very small amounts of my mom’s ashes in places she loved. I also have pieces of jewelry an artist created using a tiny amount of ashes. I did not even consider the jewelry concept until ten years after she died; thus, I am very grateful to have a small amount of her ashes. Grief changes, and ways to remember her continue to reveal themselves. Children and youth may wish to do something they find meaningful with the ashes of a sibling, parent, pet, or grandparent years later, and they will likely appreciate having that option.

Invite children and youth to help make or choose their loved one’s favorite food for the reception or repast. This is especially meaningful when the deceased is another child, parent, or grandparent. There is an intimacy in knowing the favorite foods of our loved ones, and it is a very tangible way to remember them that is appropriate for all generations. Often this will lead to rituals as grief progresses and changes. You may choose to always have their grandmother’s favorite dessert on her birthday each year or order their dad’s favorite meal each year on the anniversary of his death. Taste and smell are strong physiological responses to memories, so favorite foods are often very powerful grief practices and rituals. 

Invite children and youth to share what they loved about the deceased over a family meal or while taking a walk. Throughout the time frame between a loved one dying and a service, including them in organic ways is meaningful for them and serves as a helpful tool to gauge how they are processing the loved one’s death. As is often the case with young children especially, some of the most profound expressions of love and grief will occur in the car, over dinner on a Tuesday, or in questions at bedtime. Remember to regularly invite them to speak about their loved one as a way to keep their memory alive and reiterate that grief is an ongoing process. 

Notes

1. I recommend The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt (New York: Penguin Press, 2024). 

2. Ben. Platt et al., Dear Evan Hansen (original motion picture soundtrack), Universal Studios, 2021.