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Also, the death you have to get to know

And then you have a small Guinea pig in the Hand and feels the heart. There is a knock, quickly, very quickly, toktoktoktoktok. Maybe the chocolate, has anxiety

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Also, the death you have to get to know

And then you have a small Guinea pig in the Hand and feels the heart. There is a knock, quickly, very quickly, toktoktoktoktok. Maybe the chocolate, has anxiety, we don't consider that maybe he's just not happy he is sick, for a few days. What eats hardly not make any electronical noises as usual, when we open the fridge door, to get from the lower tray of his favorite foods, salad, fennel, red pepper. Not so easily, warm the body, so that the ten-year-old son can dribble with a syringe, the liquid medicine in the mouth of the Guinea pig. For a year chocolate and its brother live mold right next to the nursery, they look with her wild tousled fur, a little like Flokati rug-balls, a brown and a white.

a Few days later, candy is dead. The Doctor has him put to sleep, because black button were Schokos eyes quite dull, the fur pale. He couldn't swallow once more, his drugs.

How to open with the death of the parents should be their children?

Later, the son runs on the way home from the Doctor ahead in the rain, clutching the plastic box with the dead animal and whimpers in front of a soul in pain so loud, that the passers-by turn around. At the next street corner, he asks law to be clarified, whether it could be today, maybe Nutella pancakes. Once home, he settles into bed exhausted, crying again, squirms and asks the father who has laid, who is actually tomorrow in the Champions League games.

He's in mourning, and then again not. Suddenly, in waves, the rumble and then back again. Like "puddle" jumping the grief in children, says Sylvia bird of the Björn-Schulz-Stiftung, the day-care centres and schools, and advises on the topic of children's grief in, "in, out again, and again. Children live in the Moment and not in continuity". But who is so very in Now – any idea of concepts such as "eternity" and "finiteness"? When he knows that life, inevitably, of death belongs to? And what does it mean? How open parents should handle their children? You should say: We never go back to grandma, our dog stays under the earth, buried, death is the irrevocable end? Or, rather, gently and cloudy, the topic of circle in standard obituaries-vocabulary?

The Grandfather is now "asleep". The dog has taken on his "final journey". His "peace found", is "one of us".

a quick replacement, looks maybe quite similar to the deceased Dachshund, is not a good idea.

Right, it went to a Guinea pig. A small animal that is in each of the countries of South America as a delicacy, and in the pet ranking somewhere between tumbem ball of fur and very cute fluffy living companions, and not cats, dogs or horses can get rich, but according to popular belief, genuine personalities. From this point of view, it is of course irreverent, the death of a South American delicacy equate with the death of a real person. But that is the adult perspective in which everything is evaluated and classified, and there is, therefore, very precise ideas about how to grieve appropriately.

The children's point of view is to be detached. Sylvia bird told me that she hears in her children's grief groups and such sentences: "My brother Pauli died, my dog, Bobbi, and my grandmother, Ilse." In this order. The reason: A six-year-old girl, whose three-year-old dies dog has spent half his life with him, fed him, in the Arm, played with it. The living far away grandma, who is no longer there, it remains far away. It is not therefore at all parents ' task to the intensity of the loss of a loved one living being is to be perceived, and also relatively unimportant whether one understands as a mother or father, the feelings of the child. The main thing is that, you.

Some adults tell today, amused at how the mother many years ago, the dead goldfish flushed down the toilet or the father has promoted the Hamster in the trash. You probably tell these stories because in them a deep, childlike vibration on the approach is concealed, that something that means a lot, as waste disposed of.

Who do not know the watch, so pre-school child, have often no idea of finiteness.

it is Also faster replacement that looks, perhaps, like the dead Canary-bird, or Dachshund, not a good idea. "So I put out the wrong Signal: The single life is not relevant. Everything is replaceable. From the animal one thing. Children lose the respect to what is important," believes Sylvia bird. "You have to let the grief space and time." In the rest, to say goodbye. The animal is buried. A letter to give to. Light a candle. Air balloon to let it rise.

It is often said about the Deceased, they would have peacefully looked in the hours after the death. There and yet not there, on the way somewhere else. Where? The dead chocolate at home on a towel in the living room had open eyes, and still felt, that he saw with them, nothing more. The body cold, oddly hard, yet not rigid; the brown fur seemed so ragged and rough as wood wool. The two younger brothers of the eldest son, four, and seven, knelt beside him, the one in the middle, stroked the animal, the younger one looked curious.

Sylvia Vogel says, in the grief counseling, there is a kind of rule-of-thumb: anyone Who does not know the watch, so preschool is a child, have often no idea of finiteness, and could start with sentences in which 'never again' there's little. Only between nine and eleven years, the death has matured the concept of "" that children can understand, therefore, that every man must once die, even your parents, even you. Ayse Bosse, the children's grief book, "Because you wrote to me as miss", as a Grief counselor is often a old glove to their Meetings with children. It slips, moves the Finger, and gives the children the Hand, so that you can feel it. Then she pulls out the Hand again, and only the old, lifeless glove, the shell remains. "So when someone dies," she says. "It is only the shell remains. But what has made humans so special, the soul is somewhere else now."

There were times melancholy, at times light-hearted, but in retrospect, especially nice days.

bosses used to be a Model and an actress. As the rabbits of the family, and a little later her father, the grandpa of her then seven-year-old daughter died, they gave form to a Grief counselor for children and offers Workshops. She finds that grieving children have a right to "honesty, and answers to your questions". A grandma, the "Dormition" was a dog that had taken on his last "trip": "it brings Fears. Some children are afraid of then suddenly in the evening before falling Asleep. No longer want their mother goes on a business trip." And whether or not the dog is now in heaven like grandma? Even if this is not answering the final, can you talk about "children", says Bosse, "are magical creatures. They assume that after the death comes something."

Where is the chocolate? This was, after all this rain and tears day of mourning rich, a very specific question. On Monday, he had died. At the weekend he should be solemnly on a flower meadow in the country to be buried. Four days in which he somehow had to be preserved. We wrapped him in a black plastic bag, clean peas, spinach, ice cream from the deep freezer and the dead animal. About once a day one of the children wanted to see him again. At least once he would be in this auswickel actions almost as a shock frosted coat the package fell on the kitchen floor, which we found a little bit funny.

There were times melancholy, at times light-hearted, but in retrospect, especially nice days. In the time together as a family. The Fragility that everyone showed, small child, medium child, one of the largest child, adult. An animal had died. But not "just" an animal. Chocolate. A few weeks later, the eldest son hung pictures of him. So no one forgets him. The consolation in the grief is at the end of the memory. (Editorial Tamedia)

Created: 07.05.2019, 20:15 Uhr

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