Good Good Father: What I Learned From My Grieving Toddlers

When we went cold-turkey in paci-town for both boys (all prayer offerings were so needed), in the midst of their tiny tears I realized it was their first real experience with grief.

My husband and I had been talking about getting rid of paci’s for months so once we got home from a family trip to Orlando (cuz ain’t nobody got time to be doing that before vacation) we decided to have them say goodbye. Knowing myself, I would’ve tried to prolong the inevitable but they began to bite through the tips and so they’d become more of a hazard than a help.

“It’s broken? It’s broken. Mommy, it’s broken.” All I could think was “geez kids, ya’ll are ripping Mommys heart out.”

We told our oldest his was broken–I mean it was because he’d bitten a few holes in it–and he of course cried. He walked his paci to the trash and through his tears thanked it for the comfort it’d given him all these (2) years and now Jesus would be his comfort. He said goodbye and put it in the trash. Honestly, I wanted to cry with him. I hate seeing my boys sad. We simply told our youngest “paci went bye bye” and moved along.

However, we soon realized our youngest needed the opportunity to say goodbye as well and so we walked him through the same spiel as Blaise. James cried and kept saying “It’s broken? It’s broken. Mommy, it’s broken.” All I could think was “geez kids, ya’ll are ripping Mommys heart out.”

Then came bedtime. My husband and I were both a bit anxious about it but stood our ground. When the boys asked for their paci’s we reminded them they were broken–James cried and re-hashed his saying goodbye, but Blaise wept. Correction: sobbed. A gut-wrenching, heart-hurt cry and it broke my heart in half.

Grief doesn’t wait until you’re “old enough.”

But do you know what they did next?

Blaise requested we sing Good, Good Father, and James requested Holy, Holy, Holy. Both almost simultaneously. It surprised me and showed me something beautiful–the songs we’d been singing to them about God’s love had sank into their souls and become a place of peace and comfort. We sang and their little grieving hearts were comforted. Another realization was Blaise grieves like me–grief hits me hardest at night when distractions are minimal and needs more days to process. James grieves like his father–cries a bit but then reminds himself why something has happened (hence, “it’s broken” being on repeat) and turns his attention to encouraging someone else and then he’s fine.

Once we acknowledged they were grieving, it gave me and my husband the patience and grace needed to handle their hearts and not cause them to be embarrassed of their emotions. Grief doesn’t wait until you’re “old enough.” It starts early, and so teaching them to accept and process the hurt life brings their way will become healthy tools that will be life-giving as they grow-up.

And we sing those same two songs, along with Jesus Loves Me almost every night before bed.

~Candace